LIBR, 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Education 

GIFT  OF 

Louise  Barrow  Barr 


EUGEXE  AX  I)   KlXG   BOOZV. 


THE 

KING  OF  THE  PARK 


BY 

MARSHALL   SAUNDERS, 

AUTHOR  OF   "BEAUTIFUL  JOE,"   "CHARLES   AND   HIS   LAMB, 
"  FOR  THE  OTHER  BOY'S  SAKE,"  ETC. 


FOURTH   THOUSAND 


NEW  YORK  :  46  EAST  FOURTEENTH  STREET 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY 

BOSTON:  100  PURCHASE  STREET 


COPYRIGHT,  1897, 
BY  THOMAS  Y.  CBOWELL  &  COMPANY. 


Education 

GIFT 


TYPOGRAPHY  BY  C.  J.  PETERS  &  SON,  BOSTON. 


PRESSWORK  BY  ROCKWELL  &  CHURCHILL. 


/<  i 


n 


I  INSCKIBE  THIS  BOOK 

TO 

POLICE-SERGEANT  CHARLES  WESLEY  HEBARD 

OF   THE   BACK   BAY   FENS,    AND    HIS    HUMANE 

ASSOCIATES, 

TO 

MRS.  HEBARD, 

HIS    KiND-HEARTED   WIFE,    AND   TO   THE    PARENTS 
OF   THE    DEAR   GIRLS    AND  BOYS   WHO    PLAY 
ABOUT   THE   HOME    OF   THE   WELL- 
KNOWN  KING  OF  THE  PARK. 

MARSHALL  SAUNDERS. 


332 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   LONG  LIVE  THE  EMPEROR 1 

II.   KING  BOOZY 21 

III.  A  CHILD  IN  TROUBLE 42 

IV.  THE  REST  OF  THE  CATS     .     .     .     .     .     .     .  69 

V.   MRS.  HARDY  MAKES  A  CALL 84 

VI.   EUGENE  is  ARRESTED 97 

VII.   THE  SERGEANT  TALKS  OF  WAR  AND  OTHER 

THINGS Ill 

VIII.   A  KING  TO  THE  RESCUE 128 

• 

IX.   MONSIEUR  LE  CURE  ARRIVES 140 

X.   A  PROPOSAL  OF  MARRIAGE 161 

XI.   THAT  WOMAN 188 

XII.   THE  RETURN.                           213 


THE   KING   OF  THE   PARK. 


CHAPTER   I. 

LONG    LIVE    THE   EMPEROR. 

POLICE  SERGEANT  HARDY  stood  near  the 
Boylston  Street  entrance  to  the  Fens,  his  back 
toward  the  hundred  and  fifteen  acres  of  park 
land  which  it  was  his  duty  to  guard,  his  good- 
natured  face  overspread  by  a  smile,  as  he 
watched  a  young  lady  taking  a  bicycle  lesson 
in  a  secluded  walk  on  his  left. 

The  young  lady  approached  the  machine 
held  by  her  instructor  as  if  it  were  a  horse, 
then  springing  nimbly  on  it,  her  features  be- 
came rigid  with  anxiety  as  she  found  that  her 
steed  would  neither  go  on  nor  stand  still. 

Her  heroic  grapplings  and  wrestlings  with 
it,  her  wild  gyrations  to  and  fro  in  the  walk, 
while  her  teacher  dashed  madly  after  her,  were 
l 


2  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

so  ludicrous  that  the  sergeant,  although  he 
was  well  used  to  such  spectacles,  was  obliged 
to  turn  away  to  conceal  the  broad  grin  that 
overspread  his  countenance. 

The  next  object  of  his  attention  was  a  Gor- 
don setter  who  was  gayly  trotting  into  the 
park,  but  who,  on  catching  the  sergeant's  eye, 
at  once  changed  his  happy-go-lucky  demeanor 
for  a  guilty  shambling  gait. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  Mr.  Ormistead's 
dog?"  said  the  sergeant  in  a  stern  voice,  as 
he  glanced  at  the  animal's  collar.  "  Where's 
your  escort  ?  " 

The  setter  immediately  prostrated  himself  on 
the  ground,  but  his  humble  attitude  was  belied 
by  the  roguish  don't-care  expression  of  the  eyes 
he  rolled  up  at  the  guardian  of  the  law. 

The  sergeant  waved  his  hand  at  him.  uGet 
home  with  you.  You  know  you  can't  run 
loose  here.  What  would  the  ducks  and  the 
cats  say  to  you ;  or  rather,  what  would  you 
say  to  them  ?  " 

The  dog  was  not  ready  to  give  in.  He 
extended  the  tip  of  a  very  pink  tongue,  and 


LONG   LIVE   THE  EMPEROR.  3 

meekly  licked  the  tip  of  the  sergeant's  shiny 
boot. 

"No  nonsense  now,"  said  the  man  firmly. 
"  You  can't  humbug  me,  and  you  understand 
that  as  well  as  a  Christian.  Run  home  with 
you." 

The  dog  sprang  up,  resumed  his  careless  air, 
and  trotted  calmly  from  the  park  by  the  road- 
way through  which  he  had  come. 

The  sergeant  sauntered  on.  It  was  a  charm- 
ing September  morning.  He  met  a  few  pedes- 
trians and  many  nurses  and  children.  It  was 
yet  rather  early  in  the  day  for  the  carriage 
people  to  be  out. 

A  succession  of  angry  childish  shrieks  made 
him  suddenly  wheel  round,  and  look  in  the 
direction  from  which  he  had  come.  Two 
nurses  and  two  children  stood  by  the  stone 
seats  near  the  group  of  bronze  figures  erected 
to  the  memory  of  John  Boyle  O'Reilly. 

The  sergeant  strolled  slowly  back  to  them. 
One  of  the  nurses  bent  over  a  little  girl  who 
was  sobbing  violently,  and  was  stamping  her 
foot  at  a  foreign-looking  lad  with  a  pale  face, 


4  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

who  stood  at  a  little  distance  from  her.  His 
nurse,  or  attendant,  for  he  was  rather  too  old 
a  child  to  come  entirely  under  a  nursery  re- 
gime, supported  him  by  her  presence,  and  would 
have  taken  his  hand  in  hers  if  he  had  not 
drawn  it  from  her. 

"And  sure  you've  hurt  her  this  time  with 
your  murderin'  Frenchy  temper,"  exclaimed 
the  little  girl's  nurse,  looking  away  from  her 
sobbing  charge  at  the  silent  boy.  "  It's  a 
batein'  you  ought  to  have.  Come  now,  tell  us 
what  you  were  after  a-doing  to  her?" 

"  He  took  me  by  the  arm  and  the  leg,  and 
he  sweeped  the  ground  with  me,"  cried  the 
little  girl  peeping  at  him  from  between  her 
fingers. 

"  Och,  the  young  villain,"  interrupted  her 
nurse,  "and  did  you?" 

The  boy  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Yes,  it 
is  true ;  but  afterwards-  I  embraced  her." 

"By  the  soul  of  love,  but  you're  the  queer 
boy,"  responded  the  nurse  warmly;  "and  it's 
the  likes  of  you  makes  the  men  that  thinks 
they  can  drag  us  women  round  the  earth  by 


LONG   LIVE  THE  EMPEROR.  5 

the  hair  of  our  heads,  and  then  make  it  up  .with 
a  —  I'm  sorry  for  ye,  me  dear — Bad  luck 
to  ye." 

k' Hush  now,  Bridget,"  interposed  the  second 
nurse,  stepping  nearer  the  boy.  "  Wait  till  you 
hear  the  rights  of  this.  Tell  us  now,  Master 
Eugene,  what  did  Virgie  do  to  you?" 

The  boy's  eyes  flashed;  but  he  said  quietly 
enough,  "  Would  you  have  me  a  talebearer? 
What  would  my  grandfather  say?  Ask  the 
child" —  and  he  pointed  to  the  still  sobbing 
Virgie  with  as  grand  an  air  as  if  he  were  really 
the  man  that  he  felt  himself  to  be. 

"  He  h-h-hurt  my  pealings,"  wailed  Virgie 
dismally. 

"  Your  pealings ;  it's  feelings  you  mean,  rose 
of  my  heart,"  said  her  nurse,  drawing  the  child 
nearer  to  her.  "Tell  your  good  Bridget  what 
you  did  to  the  naughty  boy." 

The  little  girl,  for  some  reason  or  other,  was 
shy  about  confessing  the  provocation  that  she 
had  given  her  playmate ;  but  her  nurse,  whose 
curiosity  had  been  aroused,  was  determined  to 
extract  a  confession  from  her,  and  adroitly 


6  THE  SING   OF  THE  PARK. 

made  use  of  the  presence  of  the  sergeant,  who 
had  by  this  time  arrived  on  the  scene. 

"See,  lovie  dove,"  she  murmured  in  the 
child's  ear,  "  here's  a  great  big  monster  of  a 
policeman,  and  he's  looking  at  ye.  Tell  him 
sharp." 

The  little  girl  shuddered,  hid  her  face  in 
her  nurse's  breast,  and  whispered,  "  I  'suited 
his  remperor." 

"And  you  served  him  right,"  said  Bridget. 
"  The  grasping  old  frog-eater.  If  I  had  a  child 
that  worshipped  his  bones,  it's  shutting  him 
up  in  prison  I'd  be  after  doing  till  he  learned 
better  sense,"  and  she  made  a  vindictive  ges- 
ture in  Eugene's  direction. 

Her  nurse's  championship  restored  courage 
to  the  breast  of  the  little  girl ;  and  slipping 
from  her  knee,  she  jumped  nimbly  to  the  stone 
seat  beside  them,  and  stretched  out  both  her 
tiny  hands  toward  the  noble  head  carved  above 
her. 

"I  'suited  him,"  she  cried,  tossing  back  her 
curls  from  her  flushed  rosy  cheeks.  "I  made 
a  face  at  him  like  this,"  and  she  screwed  up 


LONG   LIVE   THE  EMPEROR.  1 

her  little  visage  in  a  detestable  grimace,  "and 
I  said,  '  Eugene,  I  hate  your  old  remperor ; ' 
then  he  sweeped  me  over  the  ground." 

A  slight  flush  overspread  the  boy's  pale  face, 
but  he  did  not  deny  the  accusation. 

"  Well,  now,  Virgie  Manning,"  said  the  boy's 
nurse  in  a  severe  manner,  "  that  was  real 
mean  in  you.  You're  only  a  little  girl,  but 
you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  to  taunt 
a  little  boy  that  sets  such  store  by  his  empe- 
ror. Look  at  here,  officer,"  and  she  appealed 
to  the  sergeant;  "you've  often  seen  us  in  these 
Fens.  This  little  boy,"  and  she  pointed  to 
Eugene,  "is  French,  and  he's  got  such  a  love 
for  foreign  things  that  you  can't  get  it  out  of 
him.  He  justs  worships  the  emperor.  I  don't 
rightly  know  which  one  it  was  "  — 

"  His  majesty,  the  great  Napoleon,  the 
greatest  emperor  the  world  has  ever  seen," 
murmured  the  boy,  lifting  his  cap  with  an  in- 
describable mingling  of  reverence  and  grace. 

"  He  hasn't  any  brothers  or  sisters  or  father 
or  mother,"  continued  the  nurse,  "and  his 
grandfather's  nearly  always  away ;  and  ever 


8  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARE:. 

since  he  was  a  little  fellow  he  tells  me  he's 
been  used  to  taking  his  meals  with  the  picture 
of  this  emperor  propped  against  the  sugar-bowl ; 
and  he  declares  that  this  statoo,  or  figger,  or 
whatever  you  call  it,  is  like  the  photograph, 
and  he  just  worships  it;  and  if  he  sees  any 
one  leaning  against  this  slab,  or  throwing 
stones  near  it,  it  just  makes  him  crazy;  and 
Virgie  knows  it,  and  she  does  it  to  tease  him  ; 
and  it  ain't  his  fault  if  he  struck  her  or  what- 
ever he  did,"  and  the  girl  threw  a  glance  of 
defiance  at  the  other  nurse. 

The  sergeant  smiled  amiably.  Among  his 
multifarious  duties  he  was  quite  well  accus- 
tomed to  being  called  on  to  act  as  arbiter  in 
disputes  between  young  nursery -maids  or  be- 
tween their  charges ;  and  being  somewhat  of  a 
philosopher,  he  was  well  adapted  for  the  office. 

The  first  thing  he  usually  did  was  to  give 
the  parties  engaged  in  controversy  time  to  get 
cool  while  he  went  off  on  a  side  issue ;  so  he 
said,  in  a  deliberate  fashion,  "According  to  my 
humble  opinion,  if  I  was  called  upon  suddenly 
for  it,  I  should  say  that  there  isn't  much  re- 


LONG   LIVE   THE  EMPEROR.  9 

semblance  between  John  Boyle  O'Reilly  and 
the  great  Bonaparte.  In  the  first  place,  O'Reilly 
never  used  a  razor  on  his  upper  lip ;  and  I  guess 
the  great  Bonaparte  did,  judging  by  his  pic- 
tures. How  do  you  get  over  that,  son?  "and 
he  directed  his  attention  to  the  small  boy  in  a 
paternal  way. 

Eugene  looked  up  adoringly  at  the  silent 
face  above  them,  and  spoke  in  a  choking  voice. 
"I  have  talked  over  the  affair  with  Monsieur 
my  grandfather.  He  agrees  with  me  that  there 
is  a  slight  resemblance.  Perhaps  after  the 
noble  martyr  went  to  St.  Helena  he  was  not 
allowed  the  use  of  a  razor.  Those  abominable 
English  "  — 

His  utterance  failed  him  to  such  a  degree 
that  the  sergeant  stared  curiously  at  him. 
Was  it  possible  that  this  small  boy  was  shaken 
with  emotion  over  the  sufferings  of  the  ambi- 
tious and  despotic  arbiter  of  men's  destinies 
who  was  so  long  since  dead? 

Yes,  it  was  —  the  boy  was  in  earnest. 

"Do  you  believe  in  my  emperor?  "  he  asked, 
turning  seriously  to  the  sergeant. 


10  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAEK. 


"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  officer  dryly. 
"  I  owe  my  allegiance,  as  I  suppose  you'd  call 
it,  to  our  President,  to  the  Commonwealth  of 
Massachusetts,  and  to  the  great  American 
Union.  However,  I  can  say  I  believe  in  Na- 
poleon to  this  extent  —  I  believe  he  lived." 

"If  you  insult  him,"  said  the  boy  gravely, 
"  you  are  my  enemy.  I  worship  him.  Long 
live  the  emperor — his  memory  will  never  die;" 
and  his  lips  moved  softly  while  he  again  lifted 
his  little  cap  from  his  head. 

The  sergeant  said  nothing,  but  glanced  at 
the  two  nurses,  who  had  forgotten  their  dis- 
pute and  were  chatting  amiably. 

"Come,  Master  Eugene,"  said  his  nurse,  "we 
must  be  going." 

The  sergeant  stepped  back ;  and  the  little 
girl,  who  had  been  jealously  watching  him 
while  he  talked  to  Eugene,  took  his  place. 

"I'm  sorry  I  made  naughty  faces  at  your 
remperor,"  she  said  poutingly.  "  Kiss  me,  Eu- 
gene." 

The  boy  did  not  kiss  her,  and  he  made  no 
apologies  for  his  own  conduct.  "I  pardon  you," 


LONG   LIVE   THE  EMPEROR.  11 

he  said  calmly ;  and  he  dropped  the  pink  fingers 
that  she  extended  to  him.  "  Will  you  have 
the  kindness  to  promenade  with  your  nurse  ?  I 
wish  to  talk  to  this  gentleman  —  if  I  am  per- 
mitted ; "  and  he  turned  to  the  sergeant,  who 
was  furiously  gnawing  his  mustache  to  keep 
from  laughing  at  the  boy's  grown-up  air. 

The  two  nurses  and  the  little  girl  strolled 
on  ahead,  while  the  sergeant  and  the  boy  fol- 
lowed them. 

Eugene  had  recovered  his  composure.  "  What 
admirable  weather,"  he  said,  dreamily  watching 
the  fleecy  clouds  floating  across  the  blue  sky. 
"I  am  glad  that  my  grandfather  says  I  am 
to  stay  out-of-doors  all  the  time,  and  not  go 
to  school." 

"Doesn't  your  grandfather  believe  in 
schools?"  asked  the  sergeant. 

"No,  Mr.  Officer,  not  in  the  kind  you  have 
here,"  said  the  boy  wearily.  "This  is  what  it 
was  like  —  I  had  my  breakfast,  and  went  to  a 
hot  room  where  boys  and  girls  sat  in  rows. 
I  bent  over  books  for  an  hour  or  two,  then 
there  was  a  play-time  for  a  few  minutes  only, 


12  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

after  it  more  study  until  lunch-time.  A  few 
hurried  mouthfuls  of  food  I  got  at  home,  then 
I  was  running  back  to  the  school.  By  half- 
past  three  I  was  too  languid  to  play,  and  would 
try  to  get  my  lessons  for  the  next  day.  My 
head  would  ache,  and  I  would  go  to  bed.  I 
tell  you,"  and  the  boy  confronted  his  com- 
panion in  sudden  passion,  "your  schools  are 
infamous.  They  should  be  abolished.  I  wish 
I  were  an  emperor,  or  your  Mr.  President.  I 
would  guillotine  the  school-teachers." 

"You're  an  odd  one,"  muttered  the  sergeant 
to  himself,  as  he  cast  a  side  glance  at  the  slim, 
elegant  figure  of  the  boy  beside  him.  "With 
your  flashes  of  anger,  and  your  quiet  dull  way 
like  an  old  man,  you're  like  a  queer  combina- 
tion lock.  It  isn't  every  one  that  can  pick 
you  open." 

Aloud  he  said,  "  This  is  a  free  country,  my 
boy ;  yet  I  fear  you'll  get  yourself  into  trouble 
some  day  if  you  keep  up  your  little  amusement 
of  sweeping  up  the  ground  with  girls,  and  if 
you  propose  to  kill  off  our  teachers.  Why, 
they're  the  staff  of  the  nation." 


LONG   LIVE  THE  EMPEROR.  13 

"What  I  say  may  sound  harsh  for  the  in- 
stant," said  the  boy  mildly,  "but  reflect  for  a 
little.  Is  it  not  better  for  a  few  to  suffer  than 
for  many?  Your  schools  must  kill  thousands 
of  children.  If  a  few  teachers  were  sacrificed, 
many  boys  would  be  saved  for  military  duty. 
Otherwise  they  will  waste  their  strength  in 
this  imbecile  of  a  life,  or  die,  as  I  say." 

"  How  do  you  suppose  the  teachers  would 
feel  to  be  killed  off  ?  "  asked  the  sergeant,  his 
broad  shoulders  shaking  with  laughter. 

Eugene  made  a  compassio'nate  gesture.  "It 
would  not  be  pleasant  for  them.  Perhaps  one 
could  alter  the  punishment  to  banishment  for 
life." 

"  Why  not  allow  them  to  stay  at  home,  if 
they  promise  to  stop  teaching,  or  to  use  shorter 
hours?" 

"Because  a  teacher  will  always  teach,  even 
as  women  and  priests  will  always  intrigue," 
said  Eugene  firmly.  uMy  grandfather  says  so." 

The  sergeant  turned  his  puzzled  face  up  to 
the  poplars  overhead.  "  I've  seen  a  good  many 
boys  and  girls  in  my  time,  young  Frenchman," 


14  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

he  observed  slowly,  "but  I'm  blest  if  I  ever 
saw  one  with  such  twisted  ideas  as  you've  got. 
Why,  you  ought  to  be  made  over  again.  Is  it 
your  grandfather  who  has  brought  you  up?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Officer." 

"  Who  is  he,  anyway  ?  " 

"He  is  called  Monsieur  le  Comte  Eugene 
Claude  Louis  Hernando  de  Vargas,  formerly 
seigneur  of  the  chateau  of  Chatillon-sur-Loir 
in  the  department  of  Loir-et-Cher  in  France ; 
and  he  is  descended  from  the  Spaniard  Her- 
nando de  Vargas,  who  was  ennobled  and  made 
a  marshal  of  France  by  the  great  Napoleon." 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  sergeant^  "  I  see  why  you're 
so  stuffy ;  and  where  does  your  grandfather 
live  in  this  democratic  city  of  Boston?" 

"Yonder,"  said  the  boy,  with  a  wave  of  his 
hand  toward  the  south.  "  We  have  but  small 
quarters.  My  grandfather  is  embarrassed  in  his 
affairs.  I  may  tell  you  as  an  official,  though  I 
would  never  tell  the  schoolboys,  that  he  was 
sentenced  to  banishment  for  conspiring  against 
the  abominable  so-called  republic  of  France." 

"  Abominable    and    republic,"    repeated    the 


LONG  LIVE  THE  EMPEEOE.  15 

sergeant  remonstratingly ;  "  come,  boy,  that's 
not  grateful.  Do  you  forget  that  a  republi- 
can flag  is  waving  over  you  at  this  present 
moment?" 

"  For  you  it  is  well,"  said  the  boy  earnestly. 
"You  are  true  to  the  past.  You  defied  Eng- 
land, who  would  have  made  slaves  of  you. 
Also,  you  have  had  no  emperor." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  George  Washington 
and  Abraham  Lincoln?"  asked  the  sergeant. 

"  The  names  of  those  gentlemen  are  quite 
unknown  to  me,"  said  Eugene  politely. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  have  never 
heard  of  that  wonderful  hatchet?" 

"Whose  hatchet,  Mr.  Officer?" 

"George  Washington's." 

"A  hatchet  is  a  kind  of  sword,  is  it  not?" 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  —  it  is  a  chopper ;  we  cut  up 
wood  arid  meat  and  anything  with  it.  You've 
heard  that  story  surely." 

"Possibly,  sir,"  said  Eugene  indifferently. 
"I  do  not  remember  that  I  have." 

"Well,  I'm  dumb,"  said  the  sergeant.  "I 
didn't  think  there  was  a  child  in  the  length 


16  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

and  breadth  of  America  that  hadn't  heard 
about  that  hatchet.  Can  you  tell  a  lie,  then, 
as  you  don't  know  about  George  Washing- 
ton?" 

"  In  general,"  said  Eugene,  in  his  grave,  old- 
fashioned  way,  "I  do  not  tell  lies.  At  times, 
if  I  consider  one  better  than  the  truth,  I  tell 
it  without  scruple." 

"You  don't  think  it's  wrong  to  lie?  " 

"No,  sir;  truth  is  often  tiresome;  there  is 
tedium  in  it,  my  grandfather  says.  The  great 
emperor  lied." 

"I'll  bet  anything  on  that,"  said  the  ser- 
geant grimly,  "and  he  didn't  get  any  good  by 
it  either,  nor  will  you,  my  boy ;  but  of  that 
more  anon,  as  Shakespeare  says.  I'll  have  to 
talk  to  you  some  time  about  those  two  gentle- 
men, as  you  call  them,  that  you  don't  know 
about.  Would  you  like  me  to  do  so  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  I  should  be  charmed." 

"  I'll  back  up  Washington  and  Lincoln 
against  all  the  emperors  that  ever  lived,"  said 
the  sergeant.  "There,  now,  don't  get  huffy." 

"I  am  not  vexed,"  said  Eugene  quietly.     "  I 


LONG   LIVE  THE  EMPEROR.  17 

am  only  about  to  ask  you  if  you  can  tell  me 
the  name  of  the  first  king  of  France." 

The  sergeant  knitted  his  brows.  "  Louis, 
wasn't  it?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Officer,  it  was  Clovis.  Can  you 
tell  me  why  Saint  Louis  gained  his  name  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  sergeant  gruffly ;  "  I'm  not  up 
in  French  history." 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  of  the  fight  at  the  cir- 
cus between  Pepin  the  Little  and  the  beasts?  " 
asked  Eugene  softly  and  mischievously. 

The  sergeant  laughed  good-naturedly. 
"  You've  caught  me,  small  boy.  I  don't  know 
any  more  of  French  history  than  you  do  of 
American.  We'll  cry  quits.  What  street  did 
you  say  you  lived  on  ?  " 

"Lovejoy  Street,  number  29,  suite  4 — you 
will  not  proceed  against  my  grandfather  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed ;  I  just  want  to  know  where  you 
live.  I  thought  by  the  way  you  talk  your 
grandfather  must  have  a  mansion  on  Common- 
wealth Avenue,  at  least." 

"No,  he  has  not;  but  the  little  girl  who  in- 
sulted my  emperor  lives  there." 


18  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Do  you  ever  go  to  her  house  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  boy  carelessly.  "  Our  nurses 
are  friends,  and  we  promenade  together.  I  do 
not  care  for  girls.  I  like  men.  May  I  count 
you  as  one  of  my  friends,  sir?"  and  stopping 
himself  quickly  by  sticking  the  heels  of  hib 
shoes  in  the  ground,  he  made  the  sergeant  a 
low  bow. 

"I'm  sure  I'll  be  delighted,"  said  the  ser- 
geant, grinning  at  him. 

"And  may  I  request  the  honor  of  your 
name,"  pursued  the  boy.  "My  grandfather 
will  ask  me  "  — 

"  Stephen  Hardy,  at  your  service,  sir  —  plain 
Stephen  Hardy,  no  marshals  nor  lords,  not  even 
a  captain  in  my  string  —  only  plain  Yankee 
sailors  for  grandfathers." 

uAh,  you  belong  to  the  bourgeoisie"  said 
Eugene,  "  or  possibly  the  peuple.  I  should  be 
more  pleased  if  you  had  the  particule  before 
your  name.  De  Hardy  would  be  better.  How- 
ever, in  this  country  one  must  let  that  pass. 
You  are,  nevertheless,  not  a  peasant.  One 
can  see  that  by  your  bearing." 


LONG  LIVE   THE  EMPEROR.  19 

"What's  your  grandfather's  business?"  asked 
the  sergeant  bluntly. 

The  boy  blushed  a  furious  crimson.  "  In 
this  country  he  has  no  friends,  no  influence, 
his  property  was  taken  away  —  at  present  he 
assists  a  countryman  in  " 

"In  teaching  French?"  asked  the  sergeant 
kindly. 

"  No  ;  we  speak  but  few  words  of  French," 
said  the  boy,  and  he  looked  as  if  another  one 
of  his  fits  of  passion  were  about  to  come  upon 
him.  "  We  use  your  language  in  order  that 
we  may  not  be  laughed  at,  as  the  boys  laugh 
at  me  when  I  speak  French." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  this  country  ?  " 
asked  the  sergeant. 

"Six  months,  Mr.   Officer." 

"  Then  you've  got  a  pretty  remarkable  hold 
of  English  for  that  time." 

"But  I  had  an  English  nurse  when  I  was 
a  child,  and  an  English  tutor  later  on.  It 
was  the  custom  among  the  noblesse" 

"And  what  does  your  grandfather  do?" 
asked  the  sergeant,  coming  back  to  his  original 
question  with  true  Yankee  pertinacity. 


20  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir  —  I  will  tell  you  another 
day,"  said  the  boy  irritably.  "  The  words 
stick  in  my  throat.  I  have  the  honor  to  wish 
you  good-morning ; "  and  with  another  one  of 
his  sweeping  bows,  he  swiftly  and  gracefully 
left  the  sergeant,  and  hurried  after  the  two 
nurses  and  the  little  girl,  who  were  making 
their  way  toward  the  wide  expanse  of  meadows 
and  shrub-planted  slopes  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  Fens. 

The  sergeant  stared  after  Eugene,  and  talked 
aloud  to  himself,  as  he  had  a  habit  of  doing. 
"I  don't  rightly  make  out  that  lad  yet.  We 
haven't  got  any  like  him  in  this  country. 
Haughty  isn't  the  word  for  him,  and  selfish 
doesn't  come  anywhere  near  his  looking  out 
for  number  one ;  yet  there's  something  divert- 
ing about  the  little  shaver,  in  spite  of  it  all. 
He's  old-fashioned,  like  a  child  that's  been 
brought  up  with  elderly  people.  I'll  look  out 
for  him.  He'll  be  coming  here  again,"  and 
the  sergeant  smiled  to  himself  as  he  went  on 
his  rounds  through  the  park. 


KING  BOOZY.  21 


CHAPTER   II. 

KING    BOOZY. 

THE  next  morning,  while  Sergeant  Hardy 
was  standing  near  the  main  entrance  to  the 
Fens  on  Commonwealth  Avenue,  he  was  glad 
to  see  in  the  distance  the  figures  of  the  two 
nurses  and  their  two  charges. 

Eugene,  holding  himself  as  straight  as  a  dart, 
was  a  little  in  advance  of  the  others;  while 
Virgie  frisked  around  him,  first  on  one  side 
and  then  on  the  other,  and  occasionally  paused 
to  throw  back  a  few  words  to  the  nurses,  whose 
heads  were  nodding  in  busy  conversation. 

The  sergeant  was  glad  to  see  that  Eugene 
looked  happier  than  he  had  done  the  day  be- 
fore. Indeed,  he  was  comparatively  cheerful 
this  morning;  and  when  he  got  near  the  ser- 
geant, his  cap  came  off  his  head  in  a  twinkling, 
and  he  said  gayly,  "  Good-morning,  sir." 

"  Bong  zhoor,  musso,"  said  the  sergeant,  in 


22  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

rather  indifferent  French.  "  You  look  as 
pleased  as  if  you'd  got  a  freedom  suit." 

Eugene's  curiosity  was  piqued.  "Will  you 
explain,  sir?"  he  said  prettily.  "You  mention 
a  phrase  that  I  have  never  met  before." 

"  Well,"  said  the  sergeant,  planting  himself 
in  the  middle  of  the  pavement,  while  the  nurses 
and  the  children  stood  round  him  in  respectful 
attention,  "  long  ago,  when  I  was  a  young  man, 
I  lived  in  the  country.  Every  lad,  when  he 
was  twenty-one,  used  to  get  a  suit  of  new 
clothes,  a  dress-suit  and  a  tall  hat,  which  he 
called  a  freedom  suit.  This  suit  was  kept  for 
special  occasions,  like  going  to  church,  and  fu- 
nerals, and  weddings,  and  making  calls  on  our 
lady  friends.  I  can  just  see  the  young  fellows 
riding  in  from  the  farms  on  horseback,  proud 
as  Punch,  with  their  coat-tails  tucked  in  their 
pockets  to  keep  them  clean." 

"  How  droll !  "  said  Eugene. 

"  How  droll !  "  little  Virgie  repeated  after 
him. 

"  I  will  walk  with  you,  sir,"  said  the  boy, 
when  the  sergeant  turned  in  the  direction  of 


KING  BOOZY.  23 

the  park.  "And  I  will  walk  wif  you,"  lisped 
Virgie  to  Eugene,  attempting  to  take  his  hand. 

"  Not  so,"  he  said  decidedly ;  and  he  held 
both  hands  before  him.  "It  might  occur  to 
you  to  seize  these  flowers  which  I  am  carry- 
ing, especially  as  they  are  for  the  emperor." 

The  sergeant's  eyes  wandered  curiously 
from  the  tiny  bunch  of  violets  to  the  plain, 
almost  threadbare,  suit  of  clothes  that  the  boy 
wore.  Something  told  him  fchat  Eugene's 
scanty  savings  were  heroically  devoted  to  per- 
petuating the  memory  of  his  beloved  emperor. 

"Are  you  going  to  lay  those  before  John 
Boyle  O'Reilly,"  he  asked. 

Eugene  bowed  gravely. 

"  Speaking  of  monuments,  there  is  one  I  ad- 
mire," said  the  sergeant,  jerking  a  thumb  over 
his  shoulder ;  "  and  I  often  think  it  shows 
that  a  woman  knows  better  how  to  dress  a 
man  than  a  man  does." 

"  You  have  reason,"  said  Eugene  courteously ; 
though  he  did  not  understand  in  the  least  what 
the  sergeant  meant,  and  the  sergeant  knew  he 
did  not. 


24  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"Look  at  it,"  said  the  man  to  his  young 
companion  ;  and  then  they  both  turned  around. 

Against  the  blue  sky  rose  alert  and  graceful 
the  bronze  figure  of  Leif  Ericsson,  the  Norse 
discoverer  of  America.  One  hand  he  held  to 
his  forehead.  He  was  peering  forward,  as  if 
his  eager  eyes  were  anxious  to  discover  the 
wonders  of  the  new  world. 

"Yes,"  said  the  sergeant,  "it  is  a  woman 
that  made  that,  and  to  my  mind  she  made  a 
man.  I  get  tired  of  these  heroes  in  petticoats, 
sitting  round  on  monuments.  I  never  saw  a 
man  in  petticoats  in  my  life,  except  a  Chris- 
tian brother;  yet  when  any  one  of  our  famous 
men  is  going  to  be  put  up  in  stone  for  us  to 
admire,  the  sculptor  swaddles  him  round  like 
a  baby  in  long  clothes ;  though  Boston  isn't 
as  bad  in  this  respect  as  some  of  our  cities." 

"It  is  a  thousand  pities,"  said  Eugene  ab- 
sently. 

"  Why  don't  you  leave  those  flowers  with 
Leif  ?  "  asked  the  sergeant  jokingly. 

Eugene  immediately  awaked  out  of  his  rev- 
ery.  "No,  no,"  he  said;  and  he  hurried  on 


LET  ME  PUT  THEM  UP  FOB  You,"  SAID  THE  SERGEANT. 


KING  BOOZY.  25 

with  a  disturbed  face,  and  scarcely  spoke  until 
they  reached  the  bronze  monument. 

"  Let  me  put  them  up  for  you,"  said  the 
sergeant,  when  Eugene  stood  on  tiptoe,  and 
tried  to  toss  his  violets  near  O'Reilly's  face. 

The  boy  gave  them  up,  and  anxiously  watched 
him  as  lie  deposited  them  on  the  stone  ledge  on 
which  the  bust  rested. 

"  I  wish  O'Reilly  could  see  you,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "Perhaps  he  does.  He  was  a  pa- 
triot, and  I  guess  he  would  approve  of  your 
devotion  to  your  country." 

Eugene  stood  gazing  up  in  rapt  attention  un- 
til Virgie  and  the  two  nurses  arrived;  then  he 
sighed,  and  brought  his  eyes  to  the  earth  again. 

"I  fought  you'd  runned  away  and  hid  your- 
sef,"  said  little  Virgie,  shaking  her  curls  and 
dancing  up  to  Eugene.  "Come  play  wif  me; 
I'm  all  lonesome." 

Eugene  was  about  yielding  passively  to  her 
request,  when  he  caught  sight  of  a  little  head 
peering  at  him  from  the  underbrush  near  by. 

"  Ah,  Jacobin  !  "  he  said  calmly,  as  he  stooped 
and  seized  a  stone,  "away  with  thee." 


26  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

The  stone  was  not  thrown ;  for  the  sergeant 
stepped  forward,  and  seized  him  by  the  shoul- 
der. "  What  do  you  see,  boy  ?  "  he  asked. 

"A  cat,"  replied  Eugene. 

The  sergeant  retained  his  hold  of  Eugene, 
and  sat  him  down  on  the  stone  seat.  "Boy," 
he  said  firmly,  "  do  you  stone  cats?  " 

"Always,"  returned  Eugene.  "The  rep- 
tiles ! " 

"Why  do  you  do  it?" 

"  Possibly,"  said  the  lad  with  slight  sarcasm, 
"  you  would  also  stone  them  if  you  lived  where 
we  do.  At  night  my  grandfather  retires  worn 
out  by  his  exertions  during  the  day.  He  sleeps ; 
then  he  springs  from  his  bed,  awakened  by  a 
cry  for  help  from  a  drowning  child.  It  is  a 
cat !  He  becomes  angry ;  he  lifts  the  window, 
and  throws  a  morsel  of  coal  at  the  supposed 
drowning  one.  He  again  retires.  He  again 
sleeps.  This  time  a  woman  shrieks  from  a 
burning  house.  He  again  hurls  himself  from 
the  bed.  Once  more  it  is  but  a  cat.  He 
throws  two  morsels  of  coal,  and  ensconces  him- 
self between  the  blankets.  In  succession  he  is 


KING  BOOZY.  27 

aroused  by  murderers,  by  burglars,  by  a  chorus 
of  men's  voices,  by  a  famous  prima  donna; 
and  all  is  produced  by  those  wretches  of  cats. 
He  says  that  he  has  travelled  in  many  lands, 
and  that  he  has  heard  the  voices  of  many  cats ; 
but  for  maliciousness  and  range  of  tones  these 
Boston  cats  eclipse  all  others." 

44 1  wonder  what  your  grandfather  takes  for 
supper,"  said  the  sergeant  sternly.  "  A  man 
that  runs  down  cats  and  women  and  priests 
ain't  fit  to  live,  in  my  estimation." 

Eugene  promptly  raised  a  little  cane  that  he 
carried  under  his  arm,  and  struck  the  sergeant 
a  smart  blow  across  his  legs. 

The  sergeant  in  his  amazement  released  his 
hold  of  Eugene's  shoulder ;  and  his  nurse,  step- 
ping forward  with  a  dismayed  face,  interposed 
herself  between  the  angry  lad  and  his  power- 
ful opponent,  and  said,  "  Run,  Master  Eugene, 
run." 

"  I  will  not  run,"  said  the  boy  haughtily. 
"You,  sir,"  he  went  on,  addressing  the  sergeant, 
"  shall  give  me  satisfaction  for  this  some  day. 
I  challenge  you  to  fight  a  duel  with  me." 


28  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

All  the  annoyance  died  out  of  the  sergeant's 
face.  "  You  young  swaggerer,"  he  said  with 
a  short  laugh,  "  you've  got  a  hard  row  to 
hoe  in  this  life.  I'm  sorry  for  you ;  but  I 
guess  I'd  no  business  to  run  down  your  grand- 
father. Come  over  here  now ;  I  want  to  show 
you  something.  You  come  too,"  he  added, 
addressing  the  nurses  and  little  Virgie,  who 
had  timidly  retreated  when  Eugene  began  to 
get  angry. 

Eugene  somewhat  sulkily  accepted  his  apol- 
ogy, and  they  all  followed  him ;  while  the  ser- 
geant talked  to  them  over  his  shoulder,  and 
led  the  way  to  a  path  near  the  Boylston-street 
bridge. 

"  Speaking  of  cats,"  he  said,  "  I  want  to  in- 
troduce you  to  one  who  is  a  prince,  or  rather 
a  king,  among  them,  and  perhaps  you  won't 
have  quite  such  a  low  opinion  of  the  gentry. 
Stoop  your  heads  now  ;  the  shrubbery  is  pretty 
dense  here." 

The  two  nurses  and  the  children  gazed  ad- 
miringly before  them.  They  were  facing  a 
most  snug  retreat. 


KING   BOOZY.  29 

a  And  sure,  a  fox  might  be  happy  there,  if  it 
wasn't  for  the  highway  near  by,"  said  Bridget 
enthusiastically,  "  And  what's  the  baste  'that 
lives  in  this  little  wild  wood  home,  officer  ?  " 

The  sergeant  was  holding  back  some  branches 
so  that  they  might  see  more  plainly  a  tiny 
wooden  kennel  heaped  high  with  dead  leaves. 

"It's  a  king  that  lives  here,"  he  said;  and 
he  lifted  toward  his  auditors  his  face  that  was 
red  from  stooping  over  the  kennel. 

"  You  didn't  know,  French  boy,"  and  he  ad- 
dressed Eugene,  "that  there  was  a  sovereign 
over  all  this  park  land  that  rules  as  absolutely 
as  your  emperor  did.''' 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  speak  of  a  cat?" 
said  the  boy  contemptuously. 

"Of  nothing  more  nor  less,  of  King  Boozy, 
monarch  of  this  park,  because  he  has  got  char- 
acter enough  to  rule  over  the  other  twenty 
cats  that  live  here." 

Little  Virgie  was  charmed.  Before  Eugene 
could  reply,  she  dropped  on  her  hands  and 
knees,  and  crawled  in  beside  the  sergeant. 
"  Oh,  the  little  sweet  housie ! "  she  cried,  pat- 


30  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

ting  the  tiny  dwelling  with  both  hands. 
"  Who  made  it,  mister  ?  does  the  pussy  sleep 
in  it?" 

"  Yes,  little  one,"  said  the  sergeant.  "A 
gentleman  connected  with  one  of  the  Boston 
theatres  had  this  kennel  made  for  the  king 
of  the  park,  who  always  sleeps  in  it.  His 
chum  occupies  that  barrel  over  there." 

"And  is  it  another  cat  that  is  his  chum?" 
asked  Bridget. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  sergeant.  "  There  is 
only  one  cat  in  the  park  that  the  king  will 
have  to  live  with  him ;  and  that  is  his  chum, 
Squirrel,  and  he  has  to  mind  his  p's  and  q*s,  I 
tell  you,  or  Boozy  would  put  him  out.  What 
do  you  think  of  this  for  a  cat's  home,  young 
sir  ?  "  and  he  addressed  Eugene. 

The  boy  backed  out  from  the  underbrush, 
slightly  curling  his  lip  as  he  did  so.  "  I  do 
not  admire  the  name  of  the  animal,"  he  said 
coldly ;  "  and  why  take  all  that  trouble  for  a 
cat?" 

The  sergeant  mopped  his  perspiring  face 
with  his  handkerchief.  "  I  will  talk  to  you 


KING   BOOZY.  31 

a  little  about  the  king,"  he  said,  "and  then 
perhaps  you  will  see." 

The  path  upon  which  they  had  entered 
ran  along  by  the  low  stone  parapet  of  the 
Boylston-street  bridge.  The  sergeant  took 
his  station  against  the  parapet,  while  his  lis- 
teners stood  grouped  about  him  in  the  mild 
sunshine. 

"  I  believe,"  said  the  sergeant,  pointing  up 
to  the  bright  blue  sky  above  them,  "  in  an 
almighty  Ruler  of  the  universe  that  creates 
all  things,  —  men  and  women  and  horses  and 
dogs  and  cats." 

"And  so  do  I,"  murmured  Bridget,  crossing 
herself.  "  Praise  be  to  his  holy  name." 

"  And  I  believe,"  continued  the  sergeant, 
"that  this  almighty  Ruler  does  not  despise 
anything  that  he  has  made  —  not  even  a  cat." 

Eugene  smiled  a  little  ironically,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  Four  years  ago,"  went  on  the  sergeant, 
"  I  was  on  duty  in  this  park  early  one  fine 
summer  morning.  Down  there  near  Common- 
wealth Avenue  I  saw  a  black-and-white  cat 


32  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

coming  leisurely  toward  me.  Every  few  steps 
he  took  he  would  look  over  his  shoulder  in 
the  direction  of  the  houses,  then  he  would 
walk  toward  the  park  again.  I  have  always 
been  fond  of  cats ;  so  I  said  '  Good-morning ' 
to  him  as  polite  as  you  please.  '  Meow,' 
he  said;  and  he  looked  pitifully  up  at  me. 
'What's  the  matter?'  I  asked.  4Are  you  go- 
ing to  the  park  to  catch  a  mouse  for  your- 
self this  fine  morning?'  ' Meow,  meow,'  he 
said ;  and  he  meant,  4  No,  no,'  just  as  plain 
as  a  creature  could  say  it.  Then  he  turned, 
and  walked  back  in  the  direction  he  had 
come,  looking  over  his  shoulder,  and  begging 
me  to  follow  as  plain  as  possible.  I  thought 
I  would  go,  for  I  knew  something  was  wrong; 
and  do  you  know  that  cat  took  me  as  straight 
as  a  child  would  have  done  down  to  a  fine 
shut-up  house.  I  suspected  what  was  the 
matter;  however,  I  rang  the  bell  of  the  next 
house,  and  inquired." 

"  They  had  gone  away  and  left  the  cat, 
hadn't  they?"  interjected  Eugene's  nurse. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  sergeant  grimly.      "  That's 


KING   BOOZY.  33 

the  figure  of  it.  Mrs.  Grandlady,  whose  name 
you  might  know  if  I  mentioned  it,  had  taken 
herself  and  her  dear  children  and  her  dear 
horses  to  the  country ;  but  the  dear  cat  was 
left  to  shift  for  himself.  I  was  sorry  for  the 
creature.  He  went  up  on  the  front  steps. 
He  went  up  on  the  back  ones.  He  listened, 
he  pricked  up  his  ears.  He  stared  at  me  as 
if  to  say,  4Do  you  really  think  they  have  left 
me  ? '  And  when  I  left  him  he  cried.  For 
three  weeks  that  cat  hung  about  the  house 
listening  for  some  one  to  come  back.  I  got 
the  lady's  address,  and  wrote  to  her,  but  she 
didn't  answer ;  then  I  reasoned  with  the  cat, 
and  said,  'You  had  better  come  up  to  the 
park.'  Finally  he  came.  I  never  saw  such 
a  human-like  creature.  He'd  never  been  ill- 
used,  and  he  could  not  seem  to  understand 
that  any  one  would  hurt  him.  He  has  got 
over  that  now  all  right.  Dogs  chase  him, 
and  boys  stone  him,  and  he's  a  different  cat. 
He  is  shy  of  strangers,  and  I  don't  think 
he  would  go  back  to  his  old  mistress  if  she 
came  for  him." 


34  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Isn't  he  a  good  pussy  now  ?  "  asked  Vir- 
gie. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  the  sergeant,  smiling  ;  "  he 
is  good,  but  he  is  a  little  sharper  than  he 
used  to  be.  He  has  got  to  know  the  world ; 
and  he  believes  that  might  is  right,  and  he 
lords  it  over  the  other  cats  in  the  park.  He 
thinks  every  one  is  down  on  him  but  me. 
He  has  lost  faith  in  human  nature  —  you  will 
understand  that  when  you  get  to  be  a  big 
girl." 

"I  would  like  to  see  that  pussy,"  said  Vir- 
gie  wistfully. 

"  I'll  call  him  up,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  if 
your  nurses  will  stand  back.  He  hates  wo- 
men." 

"  Och,  the  old  rascal ! "  said  Bridget  wrath- 
fully. 

"  You  see,  it's  this  way,"  and  the  sergeant 
spoke  in  an  apologetic  tone  of  voice.  "  Prob- 
ably he  was  the  kitchen  cat  and  the  cook's 
pet,  because  he  isn't  a  fancy  breed  like  those 
parlor  cats.  When  the  cook 'cast  him  off  he 
lost  his  liking  for  women." 


KING    BOOZY.  35 

"I  don't  want  to  see  the  old  turncoat," 
said  Bridget  disdainfully.  "  Come  on,  Virtue 
Ann ; "  and  she  twitched  herself  to  a  little  dis- 
tance, leaving  the  two  children  with  the  ser- 
geant. 

"You  want  to  see  the  king,  don't  you?" 
the  sergeant  asked  Eugene  pointedly. 

The  boy  had  been  listening  in  a  half-hearted 
way  ;  but  at  this  question  he  roused  himself 
and  said,  u  Certainly,  sir." 

The  sergeant  gave  a  long,  low  whistle ;  and 
presently  there  was  a  rustling  heard  behind 
them,  and  a  prosperous-looking  white  cat  spotted 
with  black  came,  yawning  and  stretching  him- 
self, through  the  underbrush. 

"Good-morning,  Boozy,"  said  the  sergeant, 
as  the  animal,  with  the  appearance  of  the  great- 
est delight,  sprang  on  the  parapet  of  the  bridge, 
and  purringly  stretched  himself  out  toward  his 
friend. 

"  He  is  very  jealous,  is  Boozy,"  said  the  ser- 
geant kindly,  rubbing  the  cat's  head.  "Don't 
come  any  nearer,  little  miss.  He  don't  like 
to  see  strangers  with  me,  and  he  is  shy  of 


36  THE  KING    OF   THE  PAEK. 

everything  now.  He  wouldn't  come  near  me 
for  a  while  after  the  park  uniform  was  changed 
from  gray  to  blue." 

"He  caresses  you  because  you  feed  him," 
said  Eugene,  with  a  side  glance  at  the  animal, 
who  had  stretched  himself  on  his  back,  and 
was  playfully  biting  and  patting  the  sergeant's 
hand. 

"You  don't  enter  into  the  animal's  feelings 
at  all,"  said  the  sergeant  benevolently.  "  You 
don't  think. that  there  is  a  little  heart  inside 
that  furry  body  —  that  it  grew  sick  and  sad 
when  it  was  shut  out  from  its  home." 

"I  do  not  comprehend  in  the  least,"  said 
Eugene  in  his  most  grown-up  fashion.  "  A  cat 
cannot  suffer." 

"Perhaps  some  day  you  will  understand," 
said  the  sergeant  kindly.  "  In  the  meantime 
let  me  tell  you  something  that  will  prove  to 
you  that  the  cat  does  like  me.  Some  months 
ago  I  was  transferred  to  the  Public  Garden ; 
and  this  cat,  that  would  not  come  out  of  these 
bushes  for  a  stranger,  not  if  he  was  to  whistle 
till  doomsday,  braved  the  racket  of  the  streets, 


KING   BOOZY.  37 

and,  what  was  worse  to  him,  the  people,  and 
went  down  there  to  find  me." 

"The  sweet  little  pussy!"  squealed  Virgie. 
"  Mister  Policeman,  let  me  stroke  him." 

"  Yes  ;  but  come  gently,"  said  the  sergeant. 

Virgie,  however,  made  a  delighted  run,  that 
sent  the  cat  flying  into  the  underbrush. 

The  sergeant  looked  amused  and  went  on. 
"  I  didn't  know  what  to  make  of  it  when  I 
looked  down,  and  saw  the  king  purring  with 
joy,  and  rubbing  himself  against  my  legs.  I 
said,  'Boozy,  go  back  to  the  Fens;  this  is  no 
place  for  a  cat,  and  maybe  I'll  be  sent  there 
by  and  by.'  " 

"  Did  he  return  ?  "  asked  Eugene. 

44  Yes ;  he  came  straight  back  here ;  and  I 
begged  for  an  exchange,  and  here  I  found  him 
on  the  lookout  for  me  when  I  was  sent  back. 
Don't  fret,  little  miss ;  you  can  see  the  king  an- 
other day.  I  will  try  to  call  up  his  chum  for 
you,"  and  he  whistled  again.  Boozy's  chum, 
however,  did  not  come. 

"  He  is  probably  hunting,"  said  the  sergeant. 
"He  and  Boozy  between  them  keep  this  end 


38  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

of  the  park  clean,  and  do  good  service  to  the 
city  of  Boston.  They  know  all  the  holes  of 
the  mice  and  moles  that  would  destroy  the 
plants,  and  many  a  morning  bright  and  early 
have  I  seen  those  two  cats  watching  beside 
them.  They  catch  sparrows  too ;  smart  isn't 
the  word  for  them;  and  the  other  day  Boozy 
tackled  an  eel." 

"  An  eel,"  said  Eugene,  who  was  beginning 
to  get  interested ;  "  one  of  those  creatures  par- 
allel to  a  snake  that  lives  in  the  water?  " 

"  The  same,"  said  the  sergeant,  chuckling. 
"  The  king  got  mad  with  the  eel  because  he 
wouldn't  submit  quietly  to  being  killed,  but 
wound  himself  tightly  round  his  body.  Boozy 
was  surprised  that  the  eel  would  dare  to  meddle 
with  him,  the  king  of  the  park ;  and  he  bit  the 
life  out  of  him  in  two  minutes." 

"I  have  read,"  said  Eugene,  "that  cats  dis- 
like water." 

"They  mostly  do,"  said  the  sergeant.  "Wo 
have  an  old  thing,  though,  down  below  that 
comes  in  every  morning  as  wet  as  a  seal  from 
fishing.  But  she  doesn't  dare  to  come  up 


KING   BOOZY.  39 

here.  Boozy  would  box  her  ears,  and  send 
her  home.  This  part  of  the  park  belongs  to 
him  and  his  chum.  He  makes  the  other  twenty 
cats  keep  to  their  own  end  of  it." 

"  He  is  a  naughty  pussy  to  box  the  ears  of 
the  other  pussies,"  said  Virgie  warmly. 

"  You  must  remember,  little  miss,  that  human 
beings  have  been  a  bit  rough  on  Boozy,"  said 
the  sergeant  with  a  mischievous  twinkle  in  his 
eye,  "  and  he  has  learned  some  bad  habits  from 
them." 

"  Does  the  cat  live  here  in  winter  ?  "  asked 
Eugene. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  he  doesn't  mind  the  change  of 
seasons.  We  shovel  about  twenty  feet  of  path 
for  him,  and  clear  the  snow  from  the  parapet 
so  he  can  lie  in  the  sun.  Then  I'm  a  little 
particular  about  his  food  —  you  haven't  seen 
his  dining-room;"  and  he  pointed  to  a  shel- 
tered nook  where  sheets  of  brown  paper  over- 
spread the  ground.  "  Come  around  any  day 
at  1.30,  and  you'll  see  King  Boozy  at  dinner." 

"  We'll  come  running  and  jumping  to  see 
the  sweet  pussy,"  said  Virgie.  "  I'll  go  ask 


40  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

Bridget  not  to  forget  me  about  it ; "  and  she 
ran  away  in  the  direction  of  the  nurses. 

"  Where  are  these  other  cats  that  you  speak 
of  ?  "  asked  Eugene  with  affected  indifference. 

"  Oh  !  you're  beginning  to  get  interested,  are 
you,"  said  the  sergeant.  "I'll  show  them  to 
you  some  other  day.  I  must  go  now,  and  find 
out  what  those  felk>ws  are  doing  in  that  boat 
on  the  pond.  Good-by,  Boozy;"  and  waving 
his  hand  to  the  cat,  that  he  knew  was  staring 
at  him  from  some  secluded  nook,  he  was  about 
to  hurry  away  from  the  lad,  when  he  remem- 
bered something,  and  turned  on  his  heel.  "Be- 
fore I  go,"  he  said,  "  let  me  tell  you,  young 
boy,  that  I  know  what  your  grandfather  does." 

"  Did  you  presume  to  force  inquiries,"  said 
the  lad  quickly,  "  when  I  assured  you  that  I 
should  tell  you  myself  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  did  not.  I  happened  to  remember 
that  I  had  seen  some  one  answering  to  the 
description  of  what  I'd  suppose  your  grand- 
father to  be  like  in  a  French  jeweller's  shop 
on  Washington  Street.  He  mends  watches, 
doesn't  he  ?  " 


KING  BOOZY.  41 

"  Yes,"  scarcely  breathed  the  boy,  with  an 
agonized  blush. 

"  I  wouldn't  feel  bad  about  it,  if  I  were  you," 
said  the  sergeant  compassionately.  "  That's  a 
decent  way  of  getting  a  living." 

-For  you,  yes,"  said  the  boy  mournfully; 
"for  a  de  Vargas,  no;"  and  dropping  his  young 
head  on  his  breast,  he  walked  away. 


42  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A    CHILD   IN    TROUBLE. 

THE  sergeant  had  not  seen  Eugene  for  a 
week;  but  although  he  had  not  seen  him,  lie 
could  not  get  him  out  of  his  mind. 

As  he  sauntered  about  the  park  day  after 
day,  his  vigilant  eyes  going  hither  and  thither 
over  roads  and  foot-paths  to  see  that  no  tres- 
passers loitered  in  them  and  defaced  the  grow- 
ing trees,  or  launched  boats  without  permission 
on  the  waterways,  Eugene's  pale,  thoughtful, 
and  rather  unhappy  face  floated  constantly  be- 
fore him. 

"  It's  queer,  the  interest  I  take  in  him,"  he 
said  to  himself  on  the  last  day  of  the  week. 
"  It  must  be  because  he  spoke  up  so  frank-like, 
and  asked  me  to  be  his  friend.  He's  of  a 
different  cut  from  any  other  lad  I  ever  saw. 
Guess  I'll  look  him  up  after  I  get  off  to-day. 
I'd  like  to  inquire  about  him,  anyway ;  and 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  43 

there's  no  one  to  ask  here,  for  the  little  miss 

9 

and  her  nurse  have  given  up  coming  too.  I 
guess  they've  been  promenading  on  the  sunny 
side  of  Commonwealth  Avenue  on  account  of 
the  wind  in  the  Fens." 

Every  evening  at  six  the  sergeant  went  off 
duty.  On  that  evening,  instead  of  going  home, 
he  bent  his  footsteps  toward  No.  29  Lovejoy 
Street. 

While  turning  a  corner  swiftly  he  ran  into 
a  girl  who  was  hurrying  along  with  her  head 
bent  forward. 

It  was  Virtue  Ann,  Eugene's  nurse ;  and  on 
seeing  the  sergeant,  she  threw  up  her  head 
with  a  quick  catching  of  her  breath. 

"  Did  I  frighten  you  ? "  asked  the  sergeant. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir!  "  said  Virtue  Ann  miserably. 

"  Then,  what's  the  matter  with  you  ? "  he 
asked  in  a  puzzled  voice. 

"  It's  not  you,"   said  Virtue  Ann,  bringing 
her  handkerchief  out  of  her  pocket,  and  roll 
ing  it  into  a  little  ball. 
-     "What  is  it  then?" 

"  It's  the  little  boy  —  his  grandfather's  dead, 
you  know." 


44  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Not  the  little  French  boy's  grandfather  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  this,"  said  the  sergeant  so- 
berly. "  That's  why  you  haven't  come  to  the 
Fens." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"And  what's  the  boy  going  to  do?" 

"  Oh,  oh !  that's  what  bothers  me ; "  and  Virtue 
Ann's  tears  began  to  shower  down  like  rain. 
"  It's  an  awful  hard  case.  There  he  sits  day 
after  day  in  those  little  stuffy  rooms,  waiting 
for  a  letter  from  France ;  and  if  what  he  wants 
doesn't  come  something  just  too  dreadful  for 
anything  will  happen." 

"  Too  dreadful  !  "  repeated  the  sergeant. 
"Come  now,  young  woman,  take  it  easy,  and 
just  stop  crying,  will  you?  There's  lots  of 
charitable  people  in  this  city,  and  orphans' 
homes  and  so  on.  He'll  be  all  right." 

"Do  you  suppose  he'd  go  into  an  orphans' 
home  ? "  said  Virtue  Ann,  drying  her  eyes 
and  speaking  half  indignantly.  "  You  don't 
know  him,  sir.  He's  proud  and  shy,  like  a  lit- 
tle old  man.  His  grandfather  made  him  just 


A    CHILD   IN    TROUBLE.  45 

like  himself.  Oh. !  he's  got  a  lot  to  answer  for. 
He  was  a  queer  old  man,  and  went  peering 
about  with  those  little  eyes  of  his,  just  as  if 
he  was  looking  out  for  wickedness  in  every- 
thing." 

"Has  the  boy  relatives  in  France?"  asked 
the  sergeant. 

"  Yes ;  one  rich  grand-uncle  on  his  mother's 
side.  It  was  to  him  Master  Eugene  wrote; 
and  how  do  you  think  he  began  his  letter,  sir? 
He  had  no  one  else  by  him ;  so  he  read  it  to  me, 
and  put  it  into  English  so  I  could  understand. 
It  began  this  way,  '  Robber,  my  grandfather 
is  now  dead;  and  I  call  upon  you  to  restore 
to  me,  his  rightful  heir,  the  chatto  '  —  is  that 
the  right  word,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  guess  so,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  Well,  anyway,"  continued  Virtue  Ann, 
"  Master  Eugene  laid  down  the  law  to  him. 
He  wants  him  to  give  up  this  big  house,  and 
the  servants  and  some  money,  and  if  he  does 
not  that  little  innocent  creature  will  —  oh,  dear, 
dear ! "  and  she  fell  to  catching  her  breath 
again,  and  could  not  speak. 


46  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"What  will  he  do?"  asked  the  sergeant 
impatiently. 

"  It's  too  miserable  —  I  can't  say  it,"  replied 
Virtue  Ann.  "  He'll  make  way  with  himself, 
the  little  dear." 

"Are  you  crazy?"  asked  the  sergeant. 

"No,  sir — no,  sir.  You  don't  know  that  boy. 
If  you'd  lived  with  him  as  I  have  you'd  under- 
stand him.  He's  just  as  set  in  his  way  as  a 
man.  Why,  he's  even  told  me  how  he'll  kill 
himself ;  "  and  she  whispered  a  few  words  in 
the  sergeant's  ear  that  made  him  start  back 
and  stare  at  her. 

"Do  go  see  him,"  said  Virtue  Ann.  "He 
took  a  kind  of  a  fancy  to  you ;  I  guess  it  must 
have  been  your  uniform." 

"  I  guess  so,"  said  the  sergeant.  "  Where 
are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  the  corner  grocery  for  some  bread  and 
olives." 

"  Well,  you  go  on  then,  and  I'll  call  to  see 
the  child." 

"I'll  hurry  back,"  said  Virtue  Ann;  and 
she  sped  on  her  way. 


A   CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  47 

The  sergeant  went  quickly  down  the  street 
until  he  found  No.  29.  On  arriving  there,  he 
stepped  inside  the  lobby ;  and  after  ringing  the 
bell  marked  4,  he  put  his  ear  to  the  tube  be- 
side it. 

Presently  he  heard  in  Eugene's  clear  voice, 
"Who  is  there?" 

"Sergeant  Hardy,"  replied  the  man. 

"  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  walk  up  ?  " 
said  Eugene ;  and  as  he  spoke  he  pressed  a 
spring  that  made  the  entrance  door  fly  open, 
and  enabled  the  sergeant  to  enter,  and  mount 
the  long  flight  of  stairs. 

At  the  top  of  the  house  he  found  himself  in 
a  narrow,  uncarpeted  hall,  where  a  door  stood 
wide  open  with  Eugene  beside  it. 

"  How  do  you  do  ? "  said  the  boy  gravely, 
extending  his  hand. 

"  I'm  well,"  said  the  sergeant ;  "  and  I'm 
sorry  to  hear  of  your  trouble." 

Eugene  bowed  in  his  unchildish  fashion, 
and  led  the  way  to  a  small,  barely  furnished 
parlor. 

The    sergeant  put  his  helmet  on  the  table, 


48  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

and  sat  down  by  a  window,  from  which  an 
extended  view  of  distant  hills  could  be  had 
over  the  tops  of  far  and  near  houses ;  while 
Eugene  seated  himself  opposite,  and  stretching 
out  his  slender  arms  and  legs,  tried  hard  to  fill 
the  chair  that  had  been  a  favorite  one  with  his 
dead  grandfather. 

His  endeavor  to  look  grave  and  manly  was 
not  successful.  He  only  impressed  the  sergeant 
as  being  curiously  pitiful  and  pathetic ;  and  the 
words,  "  Poor  little  chap,"  burst  almost  invol- 
untarily from  his  lips. 

Eugene  grew  rather  white ;  but  he  managed 
to  bow  again,  and  to  say  composedly,  "  Thank 
you,  Mr.  Officer." 

"  When  did  your  grandfather  die  ? "  asked 
the  seVgeant. 

"  Five  days  ago." 

"And  was  it  sudden?" 

"  Extremely  so.  He  came  home  from  the 
town  much  fatigued.  He  lay  down  on  his 
bed,  rose  up  once,  and  called  in  a  loud  voice, 
'  Eugene ! '  I  ran  to  him,  but  the  breath  had 
left  him." 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  49 

"You  have  written  to  your  relatives?"  said 
the  sergeant. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Eugene.  "  I  sent  a  letter  to 
my  grand-uncle,  who  bought  from  the  govern- 
ment the  confiscated  estate  of  my  grandfather. 
I  demanded  money  from  him  to  enable  me  to 
live.  If  he  sends  it,-  all  will  be  well.  If 
not"- 

"  Well,  if  not,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  there 
are  plenty  of  people  here  who  will  look  after 
you." 

Eugene's  pale  face  flushed.  "  Could  I  be- 
come a  pauper?  No,  Mr.  Officer.  If  I  do  not 
receive  some  of  the  rents  from  my  grandfather's 
estate,  I  shall  dispose  of  myself  otherwise." 

"  How  long  since  you've  been  out  doors  ?  " 
asked  the  sergeant  abruptly. 

"  Not  since  my  grandfather  died,"  said 
Eugene  sadly.  "I  have  not  cared  for  it." 

"  Will  you  go  home  with  me  now  and  have 
supper  ? "  asked  the  sergeant.  "  I  would  be 
proud  and  happy  to  show  you  my  wife." 

Before  Eugene  could  speak,  a  clapping  of 
hands  was  heard.  Virtue  Ann  had  come 


50  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

quietly  in,  and  had  heard  the  sergeant's  pro- 
posal. "Yes,  Master  Eugene,  do  go,"  she  said 
joyfully. 

Eugene  hesitated.  "Do,  please,"  said  Vir- 
tue Ann  coaxingly  ;  "  it  will  do  you  good." 

"Very  well,  sir,  I  accept  with  alacrity  your 
invitation,"  said  Eugene,  slipping  from  his 
chair,  and  standing  before  the  sergeant.  "  It 
is  necessary  that  I  put  on  my  velvet  suit,"  he 
went  on,  with  a  slight  sparkle  in  his  eyes,  and 
addressing  Virtue  Ann  as  he  passed  her. 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  replied;  "I  will  come  and 
get  it  down  for  you." 

In  a  few  minutes  she  came  hurrying  back 
to  the  sergeant.  "I'm  right  glad  you  asked 
him,  sir.  I  never  was  in  such  a  tight  box  in 
my  life  as  to  know  what  to  do  about  this  child. 
You  see,  I'm  a  stranger  here,  as  you  might  say, 
for  I've  only  been  four  months  in  the  city; 
and  his  grandfather  didn't  seem  to  have  any 
friends,  and  I  don't  know  any  one  to  go  to,  and 
his  money  is  most  gone,  and  he's  such  a  queer 
little  thing,  and  flies  into  a  rage  if  I  cross  him ; 
and  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  and  I  wish  you'd 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  51 

advise  him.  I  asked  Bridget  to  talk  to  Mrs. 
Manning  about  him,  —  that's  the  little  girl's 
mother  ;  but  she  says  the  lady  would  clap  him 
into  a  school  or  some  place  with  a  lot  of  chil- 
dren, where  he'd  be  most  crazy.  I'll  go  see 
Bridget  again  to-night.  I  wish  I'd  money  to 
keep  the  little  dear  with  me,  if  he'd  stay.  He's 
so  sweet  and  elegant  in  his  ways ;  but  I'm  only 
a  poor  girl,  and  I'm  getting  pretty  near  my 
last  dollar  —  oh,  here  he  is  !  Good-by,  Master 
Eugene ;  I'll  call  for  you  at  nine." 

The  sergeant  and  Eugene  went  slowly  down 
the  staircase,  arid  Virtue  Ann  stood  watching 
them  until  they  were  out  of  sight.  Then  she 
drew  a  long  sigh,  and  went  into  the  kitchen  to 
get  something  to  eat/ 

The  sergeant  and  Eugene  scarcely  spoke  as 
they  went  along  the  street.  The  man  was 
silent  because  lie  was  wondering  what  he  could 
do  to  help  the  boy  beside  him.  The  boy  was 
silent  because,  despite  himself,  a  soft  joy  and 
peace  were  stealing  into  his  troubled  heart,  as 
he  once  more  mingled  with  his  fellow-beings, 
and  breathed  the  pure  evening  air. 


52  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

At  last  the  sergeant  stopped  before  a  neat 
wooden  house  near  the  Fens.  "  This  is  my 
home,"  he  said. 

Eugene  brought  back  his  eyes  from  the  dis- 
tant horizon,  and  flashed  a  quick,  appreciative 
glance  at  the  small  house  and  the  pretty  gar- 
den. 

"Come  in,"  said  the  sergeant  gruffly.  "My 
wife  will  be  getting  the  supper." 

Eugene  saw  no  face  looking  out  for  them 
between  the  ruffled  window  curtains.  All  was 
quiet  and  still,  —  the  sergeant  had  evidently  no 
children  ;  and  the  boy  thoughtfully  went  into 
the  house,  and  hung  up  his  cap  on  a  rack  in 
the  hall. 

"  I'll  not  put  you  in  the  parlor,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "Let's  go  find  the  missis;"  and  he 
stalked  out  toward  the  kitchen  at  the  back  of 
the  house. 

Eugene  followed  him  curiously,  and  with 
some  hesitation. 

"  Isn't  that  a  picture  ? "  said  the  sergeant. 
He  had  pushed  open  the  kitchen  door ;  and 
Eugene,  looking  in,  saw  a  small,  exquisitely 


WELL,  WIFE,  I'VE  BROUGHT  A  VISITOR  HOME  TO-XIGHT." 


A    CHILD   IN   TROUBLE.  „          53 

clean  room,  with  pictures  on  the  walls,  and 
white  curtains  at  the  windows,  and  a  woman 
cooking  something  over  a  gas-stove. 

"  Well,  wife,"  said  the  sergeant  agreeably, 
"I've  brought  a  visitor  home  to-night;  he's 
the  little  French  boy  I  told  you  about.  He 
has  had  a  great  misfortune,  —  his  grandfather 
is  dead;  "and  he  gently  pushed  Eugene  for- 
ward. 

The  woman  raised  her  head  slightly;  and 
Eugene  saw  that  she  had  a  fresh  face,  rather 
younger  than  the  sergeant's,  clear  blue  eyes, 
and  a  quantity  of  soft  white  hair. 

"  Stephen, "  she  said,  in  a  spoiled,  almost 
childish  voice,  "  how  could  you  ?  there's  only 
stew  enough  for  two,  and  you  know  I  don't 
like  boys." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know,"  he  said  good-naturedly. 
"  Here's  the  boy ;  just  look  round  and  tell  him 
so  yourself." 

Mrs.  Hardy  did  turn  around  in  the  twin- 
kling of  an  eye,  the  uplifted  spoon  in  her  hand. 
"How  do  you  do?"  she  said  quickly.  "I  did- 
n't see  you  —  don't  mind  what  I  say.  I  have 


54          *       THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

just  a  little  prejudice  against  boys,  because  they 
tease  my  cats." 

"And  this  boy  has  a  little  prejudice  against 
you  on  two  scores,'5  said  the  sergeant,  chuck- 
ling amiably. 

"What  are  they?"  asked  Mrs.  Hardy, 

"I'll  tell  you  later  on,"  said  the  sergeant. 

Mrs.  Hardy  laughed  softly,  and  bent  her 
white  head  over  the  stove ;  while  her  husband 
pointed  to  a  rocking-chair  drawn  up  by  one 
of  the  windows,  and  hospitably  invited  Eugene 
to  sit  down  on  it. 

Eugene,  however,  would  not  seat  himself 
while  his  hostess  was  standing,  and  contented 
himself  with  leaning  against  it. 

The  sergeant  excused  himself,  and  went 
away  to  change  his  uniform ;  while  Mrs.  Hardy, 
between  the  intervals  of  stirring  the  dish  on 
the  stove,  looked  curiously  at  Eugene  over  her 
shoulder. 

She  was  dressed  all  in  white ;  and  there  was 
something  so  attractive  and  unique  in  her  ap- 
pearance, in  her  fresh  face  and  her  snowy 
hair,  that  the  boy  had  difficulty  in  keeping 
himself  from  staring  at  her. 


A   CHILD   IN   TROUBLE.  55 

"  So  your  grandfather  is  dead,"  she  said  in 
a  low  voice,  as  if  she  were  talking  to  herself. 
"  You  must  feel  badly  about  it,  though  you 
are  only  a  boy." 

Eugene,  without  knowing  why,  felt  himself 
growing  sorry  for  her  because  she  was  sorry 
for  him. 

"  One  must  suffer  in  this  world,"  he  said 
patronizingly.  "It  is  fate." 

"  You  are  young  to  have  found  that  out," 
said  the  woman  quietly.  Then,  before  he 
could  answer  her,  she  said,  "  Do  you  like 
oyster  stew  ?  " 

"  I  shall  eat  with  pleasure  anything  that 
you  prepare,  madam,"  said  the  boy  courte- 
ously; "and,  indeed,  that  is  one  of  my  favor- 
ite dishes  —  allow  me  to  assist  you;"-  and  he 
hurried  forward  to  help  her  in  carrying  the 
dish  to  the  near  dining-room. 

"  Did  you  hear  me  say  that  there  would 
not  be  enough  oysters  for  three?"  asked  Mrs. 
Hardy,  fixing  her  bright  blue  eyes  on  the 
boy's  face. 

"No,  madam,"  he  said  without  hesitation. 


56  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"But  you  must  have  —  you  were  close  by." 

Eugene  tried  not  to  smile,  but  he  could 
not  help  it. 

"  You  are  telling  a  story  in  order  to  save 
my  feelings,  aren't  you?"  she  said  brusquely. 

Eugene  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  A  story 
—  well,  scarcely  that." 

"It  is  better  to  hurt  my  feelings,"  she  said 
gravely,  "  than  to  say  what  is  not  true.  I 
spoke  too  quickly  about  the  oysters.  Here 
is  cold  meat  and  a  salad  —  we  shall  have 
enough.  I  suppose  you  like  oil  in  your 
salad." 

"  I  do,  madam." 

"  I've  noticed  French  people  do.  My  hus- 
band takes  sugar  and  vinegar  on  his.  Now 
I  will  get  the  chocolate,  and  we  can  sit  down 
as  soon  as  Stephen  comes." 

"Why,  you  and  my  wife  are  getting  on  fa- 
mously," said  the  sergeant,  rubbing  his  hands 
as  he  entered  the  room. 

Eugene  looked  at  him.  His  appearance 
was  quite  changed.  He  was  now  dressed  in 
a  suit  of  dark  brown  clothes,  and  he  wore  a 


A    CHILD   IN   TROUBLE.  57 

red  necktie,  and  had  a  white  flower  in  his 
buttonhole. 

"  This  boy  is  not  like  other  boys,"  said 
Mrs.  Hardy  calmly;  "he  is  a  gentleman." 

"  So  you  like  him,"  said  the  sergeant  teas- 
ingly.  "A  pity  it  is  that  he  can't  like  you." 

"Why  can't  he  like  me?"  said  Mrs.  Hardy, 
sitting  down  behind  the  chocolate  and  milk 
pitchers,  and  motioning  Eugene  to  sit  beside 
her. 

"  Because  you  are  two  things  that  he 
doesn't  care  for." 

"  What  are  they  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  woman  and  a  former  school- 
teacher." 

"Don't  you  like  women?"  asked  Mrs. 
Hardy  of  Eugene. 

"  Madam,"  he  said  gallantly,  "  the  world 
would  be  a  dreary  place  without  your  charm- 
ing sex." 

"  And  school-teachers  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  detest  them,"  he  said  frankly, 
"  with  but  few  exceptions ; "  and  he  bowed 
to  her. 


58  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"Do  you  always  talk  like  this?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hardy  with  undisguised  curiosity. 

Eugene  smiled  at  her.  He  knew  that  he 
talked  like  a  grown-up  man. 

"  Don't  tease  the  boy,"  said  the  sergeant. 
"  He  isn't  a  prig,  anyway.  Do  you  know," 
he  went  on,  addressing  Eugene,  "  that  I'm 
very  fond  of  my  wife  ?  " 

"  You  do  not  surprise  me,"  said  Eugene 
with  his  lips ;  and  in  his  heart  he  thought, 
"  What  astonishing  candor !  I  never  met  such 
people." 

"  Her  father  used  to  be  worth  his  weight 
in  gold,"  said  the  sergeant.  "  He  owned  a 
flour-mill.  Then  he  failed  and  died  ;  and  my 
wife,  like  a  brave  girl,  taught  and  supported 
herself  till  I  married  her.  I  guess  she'll 
never  do  that  again,  though.  She  has  got  a 
rich  old  aunt  that  is  going  to  leave  her  some 
money  some  day,  so  she  will  be  provided  for 
whatever  happens  to  me." 

"  I  congratulate  you,"  said  Eugene  to  his 
hostess. 

"I  hope  your  grand-uncle  will  do  as  square 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  59 

a  thing  by  you  as  her  aunt  is  doing  by  her," 
said  the  sergeant.  "  We've  got  it  down  in 
black  and  white." 

Eugene's  face  grew  so  pale  that  Mrs.  Hardy 
shook  her  head  at  her  husband.  Then  she 
pressed  the  boy  to  eat  various  things  that 
she  laid  on  his  plate. 

"  Your  hair  is  just  like  a  pile  of  snow 
to-night,"  said  the  sergeant,  affectionately  re- 
garding the  top  of  his  wife's  head.  "Do 
you  know,  boy,  some  people  are  mischievous 
enough  to  ask  if  that  hair  has  been  turned 
white  on  account  of  my  sins  ?  "  and  he 
laughed  uproariously.  "  What  do  you  tell 
them,  Bess  ?  " 

"  I  tell  them  no,"  she  said,  shaking  her 
head.  "We  all  turn  gray  in  our  family  when 
we're  forty." 

"It  gives  you  the  appearance  of  being  in 
grande  toilette"  said  Eugene,  who  had  recovered 
his  composure.  "  One  could  imagine  you  just 
stepping  into  your  carriage  to  attend  a  ball." 

Mrs.  Hardy  looked  pleased,  and  handed  him 
a  huge  slice  of  cake. 


60  THE  KING    OF   THE  PARK. 

The  Hardys  did  not  spend  a  very  long  time 
at  the  table ;  and  when  supper  was  over  the 
sergeant  withdrew  to  the  garden  to  smoke, 
while  Eugene  begged  to  assist  his  hostess  in 
carrying  the  dishes  to  the  kitchen. 

"Do  you  really  want  to  do  it?"  she  said 
earnestly ;  "  or  is  it  only  your  politeness  that 
makes  you  ask  ?  No,  don't  answer  quickly ; 
take  a  minute  to  think." 

Out  through  the  open  window  Eugene  could 
see  the  little  garden  flooded  with  electric  light 
from  the  near  street,  and  the  sergeant  saunter- 
ing about  it  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth. 

"  You  had  rather  be  with  him,  had  you  not  ?  " 
said  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  I  had,"  replied  Eugene,  the  words  slipping 
out  of  his  mouth  before  he  could  recall  them. 

"  Then,  run  away,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy ;  "it  is 
good  for  boys  to  be  in  the  open  air  as  much 
as  possible,  and  I  am  used  to  washing  my 
dishes  myself.  That  china  belonged  to  my 
mother,  and  was  very  expensive,  and  you  might 
let  it  fall ;  and  then,  perhaps  you  would  spot 
your  velvet  suit." 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  61 

Eugene  went  out-of-doors  ;  and  while  walk- 
ing about  the  moist  garden  paths,  he  followed 
the  sergeant's  directions  with  regard  to  picking 
a  number  of  the  sweet  tremulous  flowers  to 
take  home  with  him. 

"  What  games  can  you  play? "  asked  the 
sergeant  as  his  eye  ran  over  the  pleasing  sym- 
metry of  Eugene's  figure. 

"  I  can  fence  and  dance,"  said  Eugene,  "  and 
ride  passably ;  also  I  am  fond  of  fishing,  and  I 
can  run  well  at  the  game  one  calls  '  prisoner's 
base '  in  this  country." 

"  Good ;  but  what  have  you  done  here  ?  Do 
you  play  base-ball  and  cricket  or  foot-ball  ?  " 

"  Not  as  yet,"  said  the  boy  sadly,  but  proudly ; 
"  we  can  afford  nothing." 

"We  must  see  to  that  if  you  stay  in  Boston," 
said  the  sergeant.  "  You'll  not  make  yourself 
a  man  if  you  don't  have  manly  exercise.  Why, 
here's  Dodo  coming  home,  and  old  Toddles 
with  her." 

Eugene  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  smiled  in 
amusement  at  two  rather  decrepit  cats  that 
were  climbing  the  garden  fence. 


62  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  These  are  our  house  cats,"  said  the  ser- 
geant, "  promoted  from  the  park  to  home  ser- 
vice on  account  of  old  age.  Come  in,  pussies, 
and  have  some  supper." 

The  tortoiseshell  pair  before  entering  the 
house  walked  purringly  around  the  sergeant, 
and  rubbed  themselves  against  his  legs. 

"  It's  wonderful  what  affection  the  creatures 
have,"  he  said  musingly,  as  he  took  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  looked  down  at  them. 
"  Don't  you  like  dumb  animals,  boy  ?  " 

"I  had  a  pony  in  France  that  I  rather  cared 
for,"  said  Eugene,  "  and  I  like  hunting-dogs 
imperfectly  well." 

"  But  you  don't  understand  dumb  creatures," 
said  the  sergeant.  "  I  can  tell  by  the  way  that 
you  speak  that  you  don't.  There's  a  whole 
book  of  knowledge  shut  up  from  you,  boy. 
Some  day  perhaps  it  will  be  opened,  and  you'll 
enjoy  life  more  from  knowing  that  there  are 
more  live  things  to  enjoy  it  and  to  like  you 
than  you  have  had  any  suspicion  of.  Let's 
go  in  now.  I  guess  the  missis  has  got  things 
tidied." 


A    CHILD   IN   TROUBLE.  63 

Mrs.  Hardy  was  standing  on  the  porch,  look- 
ing like  a  girl  with  her  slim  figure  and  white 
gown. 

"  Would  you  like  to  play  some  games  ?  "  she 
asked  her  guest  softly. 

He  showed  a  polite  pleasure  at  the  proposal, 
and  during  the  next  two  hours  Mrs.  Hardy 
initiated  him  into  the  mysteries  of  some  Amer- 
ican parlor  amusements  that  he  had  never  be- 
fore heard  of. 

When  Virtue  Ann  came  for  him,  his  cheeks 
were  flushed  and  his  face  happy.  He  looked 
like  a  different  boy  from  the  little  careworn 
creature  that  had  arrived  there  a  few  hours 
earlier. 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  ma'am,"  said  Virtue 
Ann  in  a  low  voice  to  Mrs.  Hardy ;  "  you've 
done  an  angel's  deed  in  comforting  him.  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  what's  to  become  of  the 
little  lad ;  "  and  she  sighed  heavily. 

All  the  evening  Mrs.  Hardy  had  been  re- 
garding the  boy  with  a  curious  intentness  of 
gaze.  At  Virtue  Ann's  words  her  eyes  again 
wandered  to  Eugene  ;  and  she  said  wistfully, 


64  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Do  you  say  that  he  is  quite  alone  in  the 
world,  quite,'  quite  alone  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  except  his  old  grand-uncle  in  France," 
said  Virtue  Ann  with  a  sniff.  "  He'll  not  do 
anything  for  him,  I  misdoubt.  I've  heard  the 
grandfather  talking  about  him ;  and  I  guess 
he's  no  better  than  a  skinflint,  and  "  —  but  here 
Virtue  Ann  was  obliged  to  break  off  abruptly, 
for  Eugene  came  forward  to  take  leave  of  his 
hostess. 

Mrs.  Hardy  listened  with  a  smile  on  her 
face  to  his  well-bred  assurances  that  he  had 
had  a  pleasant  visit. 

"You  were  criticising  us  all  the  time,"  she 
said  keenly;  and  when  Eugene,  in  discompo- 
sure, could  do  nothing  but  gaze  helplessly  at 
her,  she  bent  down  suddenly  and  kissed  him. 

"  Never  mind,  little  lad,"  she  said,  "  I  know 
that  this  has  been  a  change  for  you.  Good- 
night, good-night;"  and  long  after  her  husband 
went  into  the  house,  she  stood  in  the  doorway, 
her  eyes  wandering  down  the  street  that  Virtue 
Ann  and  her  young  charge  had  taken  to  go 
home. 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  65 

Virtue  Ann  had  been  quite  impressed  by  the 
cosiness  and  pretty  furnishings  of  the  little 
cottage,  and  by  the  mingled  dignity  and  oddity 
of  the  sergeant's  wife. 

"  She  was  like  an  old  picture  with  that  white 
hair,"  she  murmured  to  herself ;  "  and  yet  there's 
110  nonsense  about  her.  I  guess  she's  a  good 
housekeeper  too,  for  everything  was  as  neat  as 
wax.  What  a  good  home  that  would  be  for 
Master  Eugene !  "  and  she  sighed  as  she  glanced 
at  the  quiet  lad  beside  her. 

Sergeant  Hardy  was  tired  that  night,  and 
went  to  bed  as  soon  as  Eugene  had  left  his 
house.  About  one  o'clock  he  was  awakened 
by  the  sound  of  suppressed  sobbing ;  and  start- 
ing up  in  bed,  he  dimly  saw  his  wife  standing 
by  the  window. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Bess  ?  "  he  asked 
sleepily. 

She  lifted  her  white  head  that  she  had  laid 
against  the  window-pane.  "  O  Stephen !  did  I 
wake  you  ?  I'm  sorry.  It's  nothing  —  go  to 
sleep  again." 

"  People  don't  get  up  out  of  bed  in  the  mid- 


66  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

die  of  the  night  to  go  lean  up  against  win- 
dows and  stare  out  into  the  dark  for  nothing," 
he  said  in  a  matter-of-fact  way.  "  What's 
wrong  with  you,  Bess  ?  " 

"  Stephen,"  she  said  in  a  repressed  voice, 
"  in  all  the  years  that  we've  been  married 
you've  often  heard  me  say  how  glad  I  am 
that  I've  never  had  a  child." 

"Often,  Bess." 

"  How  glad  —  how  delighted  I  am,"  she 
went  on  quietly,  though  he  knew  by  her  tones 
that  she  was  trembling  like  a  leaf,  "that  we 
have  not  had  to  launch  another  little  child 
into  this  world  of  care  and  trouble ;  it's  such 
a  sad  world  for  children." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  he  said,  trying  not  to 
yawn  as  he  listened  to  her. 

"  They're  such  a  worry  when  they're  grow- 
ing up,"  she  continued  sorrowfully;  "they  get 
ill,  and  you  have  to  fuss  over  them  in  the 
daytime,  and  they  call  you  out  of  your  warm 
bed  at  night." 

"Of  course  they  do,"  he  responded.  "They're 
always  bleating  like  lambs  after  their  parents." 


A    CHILD  IN   TROUBLE.  67 

"And  mothers  get  dragged  down  and  worn 
out;  and  then,  when  the  little  things  grow  old 
enough  to  be  a  comfort,  they  go  away  from 
you  out  into  the  world,  or  else  you  die  and 
leave  them,  and  almost  break  your  heart  in  the 
going,  because  you  think  other  people  won't 
be  as  tender  with  them  as  you  have  been." 

"Naturally,"  growled  the  sergeant.  "A 
body  would  almost  think  you  had  been 
through  the  experience." 

"  There  are  too  many  children  in  the 
world,"  said  his  wife  vehemently.  "  Hear  me 
say  again,  Stephen,  that  I'm  glad,  glad,  glad, 
that  I  have  never  had  any;"  and  she  sank  out 
of  his  sight  into  a  seat  in  a  dark  corner,  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"You're  so  glad,"  said  her  husband  kindly, 
and  yet  a  little  ironically,  "that  you're  cry- 
ing your  eyes  out  about  it." 

"  Let  me  alone,  Stephen,"  she  said  passion- 
ately ;  "  let  me  cry.  You  have  always  been 
kind  and  indulgent  with  me,  and  let  me  have 
my  own  way ;  and  I  have  got  selfish,  and  look 
out  always  for  my  own  comfort." 


68  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Oh !  never  mind,  never  mind,  Bess,"  he 
said  consolingly.  "  Get  into  bed  again ;  you'll 
take  cold." 

"  No,  no  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Let  me  be 
unselfish  for  once.  Let  me  imagine  that  in 
the  next  room  there  is  a  little  sick  child,  that 
it  may  call  me  at  any  minute,  that  I  must  be 
ready  to  go  to  it ; "  and  sobbing  as  if  her 
heart  would  break,  she  drew  her  white  hair 
over  her  head  like  a  veil,  and  curled  herself 
up  miserably  on  the  low  seat. 

The  sergeant  looked  in  her  direction  com- 
passionately and  with  resignation.  "  I'd  cry 
with  you,  Bess,  if  I  could,"  he  said  drowsily, 
"but  I  can't.  I'll  get  up  and  make  a  hot 
drink  for  you,  though,  if  you  like." 

uNo,  no;  I  don't  want  a  hot  drink,"  she 
moaned. 

"I  guess  I'll  just  let  you  alone.  You 
women  like  to  make  yourselves  miserable 
sometimes,"  he  said  philosophically;  and  lay- 
ing his  head  down  on  the  pillow,  he  was  soon 
asleep. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  CATS.  69 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   REST    OF   THE    CATS. 

EUGENE  had  faithfully  promised  the  sergeant 
that  he  would  go  for  a  walk  in  the  park  the 
next  morning,  and  there  the  sergeant  accord, 
ingly  met  him  at  eleven  o'clock. 

The  boy  was  strolling  along  the  southern 
part  of  the  Fens ;  and  as  he  halted  near  the 
Agassiz  bridge,  the  sergeant  caught  up  with 
him. 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said  cheerily.  "  Where's 
your  nurse  with  the  good  name  to-day?  " 

"  Good-morning,"  said  Eugene  with  a  bright 
look  at  him.  "Virtue  Ann  had  sweeping  to 
do ;  and  she  says  that  I  am  now  sufficiently 
old  to  go  out  unattended,  though  it  is  not 
the  custom  to  do  so  in  my  country  until  one 
is  older." 

"  You're  big  enough  to  go  alone,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "  We  think  here  that  it  makes  a 


70  THE  KING    OF  THE  PAEK. 

mollycoddle  of  a  boy  to  have  some  one  at  his 
heels  watching  him  all  the  time.  Have  you 
paid  your  respects  to  John  O'Reilly  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"  No ;  I  have  just  arrived  from  home.  I 
shall  go  there  later." 

"  No  news  from  France  yet  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  it  is  not  time." 

"  Well,  you'll  have  to  wait.  There's  nothing 
like  patience  in  this  life.  Don't  you  want  to 
come  down  this  path  with  me,  and  see  the  rest 
of  my  colony  of  cats  ?  This  is  where  they 
live." 

"  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure,"  said 
Eugene. 

The  sergeant  turned  abruptly  from  the  road 
to  a  shady  path  leading  to  a  duck-pond.  Sta- 
tioning himself  midway  in  it,  he  gave  a  whistle 
that  Eugene  noticed  was  quite  different  from 
his  call  for  King  Boozy. 

The  boy  stood  aside ;  and  presently  he  saw 
little  gray  heads  peeping  cautiously  from  be- 
tween the  leaves,  and  heard  a  number  of  timid 
voices  giving  tentative  mews  of  welcome. 


TlIEX  THE  CATS  CAME  FAST  EXOUGH,  YOUXG  AND  OLD,  GAV  AND 
SOBER. 


THE   REST  OF  THE  CATS.  71 

"  It  isn't  feeding-time,"  said  the  sergeant ; 
"  when  it  is  they  just  tumble  over  each  other 
to  get  to  me. — and  they're  a  little  afraid  of 
you." 

Eugene  drew  still  farther  back ;  and  then 
the  cats  came  fast  enough,  —  young  and  old, 
gay  and  sober  ones,  purring  contentedly  and 
waving  their  tails,  as  they  circled  in  and  out 
about  the  sergeant,  and  jumped  up  to  rub  them- 
selves against  him. 

"  Those  are  sisters,"  said  the  sergeant,  in- 
dicating two  young  gray  pussies  who  were 
walking  about  with  tails  held  proudly  aloft; 
"and  that  is  the  old  mother,  the  queen  of 
the  gang,"  he  added,  laughing  at  an  austere 
Maltese  cat  who  was  cuffing  the  ears  of  a  kit- 
ten ;  "  she  makes  them  stand  round." 

Eugene  addressed  a  complimentary  remark 
to  the  Maltese  cat,  who  stared  at  him  suspi- 
ciously from  eyes  that  looked  like  white  cur- 
rants in  the  strong  light  of  the  sun. 

"  You  can't  deceive  her,"  said  the  sergeant, 
as  the  cat  turned  away  from  Eugene  to  join 
the  band  about  their  patron.  "She  knows  you 


72  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

don't  like  her.  You  can  fool  a  human  being 
quicker  than  you  can  an  animal  ;  and  an 
animal  won't  lie  as  often  as  a  human  being, 
though  they  will  do  it  sometimes.  You  needn't 
try  to  catch  them,  little  one,"  he  went  on,  ad- 
dressing a  child  who  came  suddenly  racing 
down  a  path ;  "  they  won't  let  any  one  but 
the  park  police  lay  a  hand  on  them." 

Every  cat  had  disappeared  at  the  advent  of 
the  child,  and  with  a  disappointed  face  she 
went  back  the  way  she  had  come. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  the  cats'  winter  bed- 
fellows?" said  the  sergeant,  addressing  Eu- 
gene. 

"  I  should  like  it  remarkably  well,"  said  the 
boy ;  and  he  followed  the  sergeant  to  the  duck- 
pond. 

On  arriving  there  the  sergeant  gave  a  third 
variety  of  whistle,  and  a  host  of  glossy  crea- 
tures rushed  ashore,  quacking  and  gabbling  re- 
proachfully at  their  friend,  who  stood  merely 
looking  at  them  without  offering  them  food. 

"  They're  annoyed  with  me, "  he  said ;  and 
he  laughed,  as  the  ducks  one  and  all  struck 


THE  REST   OF  THE  CATS.  73 

the  ground  sharply  with  their  beaks,  and  turn- 
ing their  backs  on  him  filed  into  the  pond. 

"  You  greedy  things,"  he  went  on  ;  "  your 
thoughts  don't  get  much  higher  than  good 
living,  though  you're  pretty  kind  to  the  cats 
in  winter.  Do  you  know  ducks  and  cats  all 
sleep  together  after  it  gets  cold  ?  " 

"  Really !  "  ejaculated  Eugene.  "  Is  that  a 
possible  thing?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  sergeant ;  "  they  sleep  in 
boxes  filled  with  hay.  My  wife  says  it  is 
'  sweet '  to  see  the  ducklings  and  kittens 
brought  up  together.  She  has  a  very  kind 
heart  for  animals,  has  my  wife." 

"  I  can  well  imagine  that  Mrs.  Hardy  is 
always  kind,"  said  Eugene. 

The  sergeant  glanced  at  him  sharply.  The 
boy  spoke  in  the  tones  of  ordinary  politeness, 
not  warmly  by  any  means. 

"  Do  you  keep  no  pigeons  ?  "  Eugene  went 
on. 

"  Yes,  a  few,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  And  where  is  the  place  that  they  live,  — 
the  pigeonnier,  as  one  says  in  France  ?  " 


74  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAEK. 

"In  the  top  of  the  duck-house.  They  have 
no  house  of  their  own." 

"In  France  nearly  every  country  house  has 
a  pigeonnier"  said  Eugene. 

"We'll  get  one  here  in  time,"  said  the  ser- 
geant. "Now,  if  you  want  to  inspect  the  rest 
of  my  menagerie,  let  us  go  back  to  the  bridge." 

"  What  have  you  there  ?  "  asked  Eugene  as 
they  paced  slowly  up  the  path. 

"A  flock  of  twenty-one  geese.  See,  there 
they  are  out  on  the  marshes.  Hello,  they're 
having  a  quarrel  with  the  wild  geese." 

"Have  you  wild  ones  also?" 

"A  few  only.  Hear  how  they're  screaming. 
What  tempers  !  I'll  whistle,  and  perhaps  I'll 
catch  their  attention." 

The  sergeant  whistled  in  vain.  The  wind 
was  blowing  over  the  marshes,  and  the  geese 
were  too  much  engaged  in  their  dispute  to 
heed  his  voice  that  only  reached  them  faintly. 

"  They  remind  me  of  the  prairie  fowl  out 
West,"  said  the  sergeant.  "  They  were  mighty 
fond  of  dancing  round  each  other,  but  they 
always  wound  up  with  a  row.  Now,  I  haven't 


THE  EEST   OF  THE   CATS.  75 

anything  more  to  show  you  this  morning.  I 
believe  I'll  walk  up  Boylston  Street  way  with 
you  a  bit.  Come  over  some  feeding-time  to 
see  these  creatures.  They're  more  interesting 
then.  Don't  bring  your  nurse,  though,  down 
here.  These  cats  just  hate  women." 

"For  the  same  reason  that  the  lung  does?" 
asked  Eugene. 

"  Yes ;  they've  mostly  been  turned  out-of- 
doors  by  women,  and  they  don't  forget  it.  I'm 
sorry  it's  so,  for  I  am  fond  of  women  myself; 
but  animals,  and  cats  especially,  don't  forget 
an  injury ;  that  is,  the  most  of  them  don't. 
They're  very  like  us,  some  forgive  and  some 
don't ;  and  they're  just  as  full  of  contradictions 
as  we  are.  Some  of  them  will  put  up  with 
things  from  the  few  people  they  like  best  that 
they  won't  put  up  with  from  a  stranger.  For 
instance,  a  dog  will  let  his  master  cuff  him 
round,  when  he'd  bite  a  stranger  that  would 
Lay  a  finger  on  him.  That's  just  the  way  we 
are  with  our  own  families.  My  wife  and  I 
will  take  things  from  each  other  that  we 
wouldn't  from  other  people.  By  the  way, 


76  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

there  are  some  fine  boys  coming  along  that  I'd 
like  to  introduce  you  to.  Do  you  see  them  ? 
That  is  a  grand  fellow,  that  one  with  the  foot- 
ball under  his  arm." 

Eugene  shrank  back,  and  made  a  gesture  of 
dissent. 

"You'll  like  them,"  said  the  sergeant  ear- 
nestly ;  and  before  Eugene  could  speak  he  had 
addressed  the  boys,  who  halted  before  him. 

"  We  are  going  to  run  races  on  the  long 
path,"  said  one  of  them. 

"  You  ought  to  cut  over  the  ground  like  a 
North  Dakota  jack-rabbit,"  said  the  sergeant 
turning  to  Eugene. 

The  French  lad  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not. 
He  had  so  long  been  cut  off  from  the  society 
of  other  boys  that  getting  among  them  again 
was  like  taking  a  plunge  into  a  cold  bath. 
However,  one  boy,  to  whom  the  sergeant  nodded 
in  a  significant  way,  took  Eugene  under  his 
protection ;  and  with  unconcealed  delight  the 
sergeant  stood  watching  the  round  dozen  of 
them  kick  up  their  heels,  and  scamper  over  the 
level  road  toward  their  racing-ground. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  CATS.  77 

Eugene,  to  the  sergeant's  pride,  kept  up 
with  the  best  of  them.  "  He  is  long  and  lean, 
just  like  a  greyhound,"  muttered  the  man  as 
he  went  contentedly  on  his  tour  of  inspection 
through  the  park ;  "  but  he  looks  a  little  under- 
fed. I  wish  he  could  get  some  of  Bess's  roast 
beef  occasionally." 

When  the  sergeant  went  home  to  his  dinner 
at  one  o'clock,  he  told  his  wife  about  meeting 
Eugene. 

"  I'm  glad  you  sent  him  to  play,"  she  said. 
"  His  nurse  has  been  here,  and  we  were  talk- 
ing about  him.  It's  a  shame  to  have  the  child 
so  like  an  old  man." 

"  Yes ;  it  is,"  said  the  sergeant  absently. 
"  What  have  you  got  for  dinner,  Bess  ?  I'm 
fearfully  hungry,  and  I  smell  something  good." 

"  Steak  and  onions  and  apple-pie,"  said  his 
wife.  "Stephen,  I  want  that  boy." 

"  You  want  that  boy !  "  said  her  husband  in 
a  dazed  manner.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Just  exactly  what  I  say,"  she  replied  with 
great  composure.  "  I  want  him  to  come  here. 
His  nurse  has  heard  of  a  good  situation,  and 


78  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

it  is  too  bad  to  keep  her  on  there  living  with 
him  when  they  have  so  little  money." 

Her   husband   sat   down    to    the    table,    and 

began    to    carve    the  steak.      "  Bess,"  he    said 

remonstratingly,    "  you  couldn't  get  him  here 

—  that  little  thoroughbred,  proud  fellow.     He 

looks  down  on  us." 

"  Why  does  he  look  down  on  us  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  Well,  I  guess  he  thinks  we  don't  belong 
to  the  aristocracy." 

"  Aren't  you  as  good  a  man  as  there  is  in 
this  city  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Hardy  earnestly. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  I  am,"  said  the  ser- 
geant with  great  complacency,  "  though  I 
might  be  better  than  I  am.  But,  Bess,  you 
don't  understand." 

"  I  understand  this  much,"  she  said.  "  Here 
is  a  lonely  child  in  a  big  city,  without  a  soul 
but  a  poor  ignorant  nurse  to  look  after  him. 
If  you  take  him  b}^  force,  and  put  him  some- 
where where  he  doesn't  want  to  go,  he'll  pine 
to  death.  If  we  can  coax  him  here,  and  make 
him  happy  till  something  is  arranged" 


THE  REST  OF  THE  CATS.  79 

"  That's  all  very  fine,"  said  the  sergeant ; 
"  I  see  what  you're  after,  Bess.  You've  taken 
a  great  fancy  to  that  boy.  You'll  get  him  here, 
and  fall  to  petting  him  ;  then,  when  he's  sent 
for  to  go  to  France,  you'll  break  your  heart." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  will  ever  be  sent  for," 
said  Mrs.  Hardy  calmly. 

The  sergeant  laid  aside  his  knife  and  fork, 
and  brought  his  hand  down  on  the  table.  "Now 
understand,  Bess,  once  for  all,  I'm  not  going 
to  bring  up  other  people's  children.  If  I  had 
a  son  of  my  own  it  would  be  different.  How 
do  we  know  how  this  little  shaver  will  turn 
out  ?  His  head  is  crammed  full  of  notions, 
and  he  thinks  no  more  of  telling  a  lie  than  I 
do  of  telling  the  truth." 

"  Some  one  has  to  bring  him  up,"  said  Mrs. 
Hardy ;  "  and  he  only  tells  stories  out  of  polite- 
ness. He  will  get  over  it." 

"I  told  you  before  that  he's  different  from 
us,"  said  the  sergeant  irritably.  "  Don't  tease, 
Bess." 

"  No,  I  won't,  Stephen,"  she  said  quietly ; 
"  perhaps  you  are  right,  only  "  — 


80  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Only  what  ?  "  asked  her  husband. 

"Only  I'm  lonely  here  all  day  without  you," 
she  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Will  you  give  me  a  cup  of  tea  ?  "  asked 
her  husband.  "You're  not  crying,  are  you?" 
he  went  on  suspiciously. 

"  No,  Stephen ;  I  cried  enough  last  night  to 
last  me  for  a  long  time." 

"You  don't  usually  have  a  crying-spell  oftener 
than  once  in  six  weeks,"  he  remarked  with 
assumed  cheerfulness.  "  I  guess  some  one 
will  look  out  for  that  boy.  I  daresay  there 
are  lots  of  rich  people  in  this  city  that  would 
adopt  him  if  they  knew  what  a  grand  family 
he  comes  of." 

"  Rich  people  aren't  as  kind  as  poor  ones, 
Stephen,  you  know  that." 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  he  said  warmly.  "  I  notice  it 
isn't  the  best-dressed  people  that  give  nickels 
to  the  beggars  in  the  streets.  It's  the  shabby 
woman  that  takes  out  her  purse  when  she 
passes  some  poor  wretch.  She's  been  there, 
or  near  enough  to  pity  —  not  that  I  approve 
of  encouraging  begging,"  he  added  in  an  offi- 
cial manner. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  CATS.  81 

"It  must  be  terrible  not  to  have  enough  to 
eat,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  with  a  shudder. 

The  sergeant  shuddered  too.  "  Bess,"  he 
said,  "  it's  easy  enougli  to  say  that,  but  not 
one  person  in  a  million  can  feel  it.  Most 
people  haven't  the  slightest  idea  what  starva- 
tion is.  I've  told  you  about  my  getting  lost 
out  West  on  the  plains.  All  the  man  went 
out  of  me  two  days  after  we  ate  our  last  bite 
of  food.  I  was  nothing  but  a  beast.  I  could 
have  eaten  you  if  you  had  been  there.  The 
pain  and  the  sickness  and  the  dreams  of  food 
were  awful,  and  for  weeks  after  we  were  found 
I  could  digest  only  the  simplest  things.  Do 
you  suppose  that  boy  ever  goes  hungry?" 

"  Meat  is  rather  expensive  in  Boston,"  said 
Mrs.  Hardy.  "I  think  by  what  the  girl  says 
they  don't  get  much  of  that." 

The  sergeant  finished  his  dinner  in  silence ; 
and  in  silence  he  buckled  on  his  belt,  and  took 
his  helmet  and  went  to  the  front  door.  Then 
he  came  back  again. 

"Bess,"  he  said  gruffly,  "you  said  last  night 
what  a  good  husband  I'd  been  to  you." 


82  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Yes,  Stephen,"  she  replied ;  "  and  I  say  it 
again,  now  and  always,  and  I  don't  care  who 
hears  me." 

"  Well,  you've  been  a  good  wife  to  me,"  he 
returned ;  "  and  I  don't  care  who  hears  me  say 
it,  either.  Get  that  boy  here  if  you  like  — 
maybe  it  is  a  good  move.  We're  always  hav- 
ing to  do  things  in  the  dark  in  this  life,  and 
then  some  way  or  other  light  shines  on  us ; 
but  Bess  "  —  and  he  hesitated,  and  looked  at 
her  from  under  drooping  eyelids  as  shyly  as 
if  he  were  a  boy  himself. 

She  went  up  quickly  to  him,  and  laid  a  hand 
on  his  broad  chest.  "  I  know  what  you  want 
to  say,  Stephen,  you  are  jealous ;  you  are  afraid 
I'll  think  more  of  that  little  boy  than  I  do  of 

you." 

"  That's  about  the  figure  of  it,"  he  replied. 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself  ?  "  she  said, 
"  not  only  to  mention  such  a  thing  to  me,  but 
to  dare  to  think  it  to  yourself.  You  a  big, 
strong  man  to  be  jealous  of  that  little  delicate 
lad.  You  know  just  as  well  as  I  do  why  I  like 
him." 


THE  REST  OF  THE  CATS.  83 

The  sergeant's  face  cleared.  u  You  like  him 
for  the  same  reason  that  you  like  the  cats,"  he 
said.  "  He's  been  cast  out,  and  he  hasn't  any 
one  to  take  an  interest  in  him.  Well,  pet  him 
all  you  like,  and  have  him  here  if  you  can  get 
him,  I  don't  care  ;  "  and  the  sergeant  serenely 
kissed  her,  and  then  wended  his  way  back  to 
the  park. 


84  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 


CHAPTER    V. 

MRS.    HARDY   MAKES   A   CALL. 

IN  the  middle  of  that  same  afternoon,  Brid- 
get and  Virtue  Ann  were  sitting  in  the  lat- 
ter's  kitchen,  talking  volubly. 

"And  sure  that's  a  boss  place,"  Bridget 
was  saying.  "  You'd  do  well  to  jump  at  the 
chance,  Virtue  Ann.  Four  girls  kept,  and 
you  only  to  do  part  of  the  up-stairs  work ; 
and  it's  lucky  you  are." 

"  But  the  child,"  said  Virtue  Ann  uneasily. 

"  Troth,  and  it's  a  pity  about  him,"  said 
Bridget ;  "  but  to  look  out  for  number  one  is 
the  game  to-day.  You  can't  tie  to  your  apron- 
strings  a  child  that  hasn't  a  ghost  of  a  claim 
on  you." 

"No,  I  can't,"  said  Virtue  Ann;  "I  know 
I'm  standing  in  my  own  light,  yet  there's 
something  witchy  about  the  little  fellow.  I 
wake  up  in  the  night  and  think  about  him, 
and  vow  I'll  never  leave  him." 


MRS.    HARDY  MAKES  A    CALL.  85 

"  And  in  the  morning  it's  forgetting  ye 
are,"  said  Bridget  with  a  light  laugh.  "  Faith, 
I'd  shake  him  off  in  the  winking  of  an  eye. 
It's  the  city  that'll  look  after  him,  since  his 
grandfather  was  an  infidel,  and  they  haven't  a 
claim  on  the  holy  church.  Och  !  murder,  me 
boy !  Virtue  Ann ! "  and  Bridget  wound  up 
her  remarks  with  a  squeal  of  dismay ;  for 
Eugene  stood  in  the  doorway,  his  black,  pier- 
cing eyes  fixed  severely  on  her  face. 

He  did  not  speak  to  her,  but  turned  to  his 
nurse.  "Virtue  Ann,"  he  asked  in  a  sad, 
penetrating  voice,  "  is  it  true  that  you  wish 
to  leave  me?  " 

"  Master  Eugene,"  stammered  the  girl,  "  I 
thought  you  were  on  the  sofa  asleep,  being 
tired  from  your  walk  in  the  park  this  morning ; 
I'm  sure  I  never  dreamed  —  if  I'd  thought 
you  were  awake  I'd  have  shut  the  door." 

"  Have  you  a  situation  offered  to  you  ?  " 
asked  Eugene  coldly. 

"Yes,  she  has,"  interposed  Bridget;  "and 
that  is  the  truth  of  the  matter;  and  you'll  be 
a  good  boy,  sir,  now  won't  you  ?  " 


86  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

Eugene  still  paid  no  attention  to  her;  and 
Virtue  Ann  went  on,  "  I'll  not  leave  you, 
Master  Eugene,  don't  you  be  afeard  of  it. 
I'm  just  talking  to  while  away  the  time." 

"  Where  is  it  that  you  wish  to  go  ? "  asked 
Eugene. 

44  It's  to  Brookline,"  interposed  Bridget. 
"  To  a  fine  house,  where  she'll  get  lots  of 
wages,  and  maybe  find  a  nice  home  for  you, 
me  boy,  if  you'll  be  a  good,  peaceable  lad, 
and  let  her  go  quiet-like  and  aisy." 

"  When  are  you  required  to  be  there  ?  " 
pursued  Eugene. 

"  Never,  Master  Eugene,"  said  Virtue  Ann 
hysterically.  "I'm  not  going.  It's  only  talk." 

"And  it's  to-morrow  morning  her  new  mis- 
tress would  like  to  have  her,"  said  Bridget; 
44  for  in  the  evening  she  gives  a  grand  dinner- 
party, and  they'll  be  glad  of  extra  help  for  the 
waiting." 

44  How  much  do  I  owe  you,  Virtue  Ann  ? " 
asked  Eugene. 

44  Nothing,  nothing,"  said  the  girl  wildly. 
44  Oh !  I  don't  know  what  brought  us  into  this 


MBS.   HARDY  MAKES  A    CALL.  87 

scrape.  Bridget,  I  wish  you'd  held  your 
tongue." 

The  boy  took  out  his  little  purse,  and 
opened  it.  There  was  not  much  money  in  it. 
He  turned  over  a  few  silver  pieces  with  the 
tips  of  his  slim,  aristocratic  fingers,  and  his 
white  face  grew  whiter.  Still  he  said  firmly, 
"It  will  be  necessary  to  sell  the  furniture.  I 
will  arrange  for  it.  You  may  leave  me  in 
the  morning,  Virtue  Ann ; "  and  he  withdrew 
as  softly  as  he  had  come. 

"The  little  impident  thing,"  said  Bridget 
wrathfully.  "  He  niver  once  cast  a  glance  at 
me." 

"  He'll  never  speak  to  you  again,"  said  Vir- 
tue Ann  mournfully,  "nor  to  me  either,  after 
I  leave  him.  I  know  him ;  he's  the  most  un- 
forgiving little  mortal  that  ever  drew  breath. 
Oh !  I  wish  I  hadn't  offended  him  ;  "  and  she 
put  her  apron  up  to  her  face  and  began  to  cry. 

"Oh,  whisht!"  said  Bridget  impatiently. 
"  Just  you  leave  him  here  ;  some  one  will  take 
care  of  him." 

"  Oh,   I   can't,  I   can't !  "   said  Virtue  Ann. 


THE  KING    OF  THE  PA  UK. 

"  He's  all  alone  in  the  world.  He  don't  know 
any  one  here,  or  care  for  any  one,  unless  it's 
that  police  sergeant.  I  guess  I'll  go  see  him 
right  away." 

"  Hist !  "  said  Bridget,  "  there's  a  ring  at  the 
bell ;  go  see  who  it  is." 

Virtue  Ann  sprang  up,  dried  her  tears,  and 
hurried  into  the  little  hall.  Mrs.  Hardy's  voice 
was  asking  through  the  tube  if  she  might 
come  up.  "Certainly,  certainly,  ma'am,"  said 
Virtue  Ann  joyfully ;  and  when  a  few  minutes 
after  she  looked  over  the  stair-railing,  and  saw 
Mrs.  Hardy's  white  head,  crowned  by  a  big 
black  hat,  appearing,  she  exclaimed,  "  I'm  just 
tickled  to  death  to  see  you,  ma'am.  Would 
you,"  and  she  lowered  her  voice  to  a  myste- 
rious whisper,  umind  coming  to  the  kitchen 
for  a  minute?  Master  Eugene's  in  the  parlor, 
and  I  want  to  tell  you  something." 

Mrs.  Hardy  nodded  her  head,  and  without 
speaking  followed  the  girl  to  the  kitchen,  and 
stood  looking  in  a  puzzled  way  at  Bridget, 
whom  she  had  not  seen  before. 

Virtue  Ann  quickly  explained  the  situation 
of  affairs  to  her. 


MES.   HAEDY  MAKES  A    CALL.  89 

Mrs.  Hardy  listened  attentively ;  and  when 
Virtue  Ann  finished  speaking,  she  said,  "  Will 
you  take  me  to  the  boy?  I  have  just  come  to 
ask  him  to  visit  us  as  long  as  he  likes." 

Virtue  Ann  was  almost  beside  herself  with 
relief.  "You've  the  best  heart  in  the  world, 
ma'am,"  she  said  enthusiastically.  "This  is  the 
most  pleasurable  thing  that  could  happen  to 
him.  Oh,  I'm  out  of  my  senses  for  joy ! "  and 
she  seized  Mrs.  Hardy's  hand  in  her  own. 

The  sergeant's  wife  smiled  at  her;  then  she 
asked  again,  somewhat  impatiently,  where  Eu- 
gene was. 

"  Here,  ma'am,"  said  Virtue  Ann ;  and  she 
threw  open  the  door  of  the  -small  parlor. 

Mrs.  Hardy's  face  changed  quickly.  The 
boy  sat  by  the  table,  his  young  head  bent  over 
a  piece  of  paper,  on  which  he  was  laboriously 
writing  figures.  She  knew  that  his  childish 
head  was  throbbing  with  the  vain  effort  to  find 
some  way  by  which  he  could  increase  the  sum 
of  money  that  he  had  on  hand. 

Poor  little  one !  and  vain  task  beyond  his 
years,  she  thought  pitifully ;  but  she  restrained 


90  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

herself  from  any  open  expression  of  sympathy, 
for  she  knew  that  he  would  not  appreciate 
it. 

He  got  up  slowly  when  he  saw  her,  and  of- 
fered her  his  seat ;  and  with  a  sharp  pang  at  her 
heart  she  noticed  the  curious  facility  and  un- 
childishness  with  which  he  put  his  own  trouble 
from  him,  and  waited  courteously  to  hear  the 
object  of  her  visit. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  you,"  she  began  ab- 
sently, then  she  paused.  Could  this  indeed 
be  the  same  little  boy  that  her  husband  had 
seen  scampering  merrily  over  the  Fens  only 
that  morning? 

"  Did  you  win  any  of  the  races  to-day  ? " 
she  said  irrelevantly. 

Some  color  came  into  Eugene's  face,  and 
made  him  look  like  a  delicate  bit  of  porcelain. 
"  I  did,"  he  said  eagerly.  "  I  amused  myself 
very  much;  and  I  am  invited  to  go  again  to- 
morrow if  —  if  other  matters  will  permit ;  "  and 
he  grew  grave  again. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  other  matters  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Hardy. 


MRS.   HAEDT  MAKES  A    CALL.  91 

"  My  servant  wishes  to  leave  me,"  said 
Eugene.  "  I  shall  dismiss  her  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

Mrs.  Hardy  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh 
or  to  cry.  She  certainly  took  a  strange  inter- 
est in  this  boy.  "  And  what  will  you  do," 
she  asked,  "  after  the  girl  goes  away  ?  " 

"  I  shall  remain  here,"  said  Eugene,  "  until 
my  letter  arrives  from  France." 

"  But  you  cannot  stay  alone." 

"  Why  not,  madam  ?  " 

"  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  ? "  she 
said ;  "  you  are  a  mere  child.  You  cannot. 
Who  will  cook  for  you?" 

"There  are  cafes  and  bake-houses  near  by," 
said  Eugene  calmly. 

Mrs.  Hardy  stretched  an  appealing  black- 
gloved  hand  to  him.  "  Come  to  us,"  she 
said.  "I  am  here  to-day  to  ask  you  to  make 
us  a  long  visit.  My  husband  joins  with  me 
in  this  invitation." 

"  You  are  most  kind,  most  sagacious,"  said 
Eugene  slowly ;  "  but  it  is  impossible." 

"  Why  is  it  impossible  ?  " 


92  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

44  What  demand  have  I  on  you  ?  "  he  said 
civilly,  yet  haughtily. 

"  Every  one  that  is  in  trouble  has  a  claim  to 
hospitality,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  warmly.  "We 
have  to  help  each  other  in  this  world.  We 
could  not  go  on  if  we  did  not." 

44  And  what  is  your  imagination  about  my 
trouble?"  he  asked. 

Mrs.  Hardy  had  offended  the  proud  little 
lad,  but  she  did  not  stop  to  choose  her  next 
words.  "  Your  trouble  is  that  you  are  old 
before  your  time,"  she  said  hurriedly.  44  You 
are  just  like  a  graybeard.  Only  the  bitter  in 
life  seems  to  be  left  for  you.  Come  to  me, 
and  let  me  make  you  a  child  again;"  and  she 
seized  one  of  his  slim  hands  in  hers. 

To  her  distress,  nay,  her  horror,  the  boy 
drew  back  from  her  with  a  slight  sneer. 
44  Madam,"  he  said  icily,  44  my  grandfather 
often  said  to  me,  4  Distrust  women  ;  you  may 
have  the  happiness  to  amuse  them  for  a  time, 
but  later  on  they  will  throw  you  aside.'  I 
have  not  great  age  myself,  but  so  far  I  think 
he  has  reason." 


MBS.   HARDY  MAKES  A   CALL.  93 

"  And  do  you  think  that  I  only  want  to 
amuse  myself  in  taking  care  of  you?"  gasped 
Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  Why  not  ? "  and  Eugene  elevated  his 
eyebrows.  "  It  is  either  that,  or  you  wish  to 
establish  a  claim  on  me,  so  that  I  may  share 
my  fortune  with  you." 

"  Your  fortune!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Hardy; 
"you  have  none." 

"You  know  that  I  expect  one,"  said  Eugene 
in  a  condescending  manner. 

"  Then,  you  don't  think  I  came  here  to-day 
just  out  of  the  kindness  of  my  heart  —  that 
I  am  willing  to  take  care  of  you,  and  treat 
you  just  as  if  you  were  my  own  little  boy, 
simply  from  love." 

Eugene  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "No;  why 
should  you?  I  have  no  right  to  this." 

"  Oh,  you  naughty,  naughty  boy ! "  said 
Mrs.  Hardy,  pushing  back  her  chair  and  an- 
grily confronting  him.  "  I  never  heard  any 
one  talk  like  you  in  my  life.  I  don't  know 
what  your  grandfather  could  have  been  think- 
ing of  to  bring  you  up  like  this.  You  are 


94  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

not  like  the  Boston  bad  boy  at  all ;  you  are 
much  worse.  I  wouldn't  have  you  in  my 
house ;  "  and  the  little  woman  flung  herself 
out  of  the  room. 

Virtue  Ann  and  Bridget  could  not  detain 
her.  She  fairly  ran  home ;  and,  throwing  her- 
self on  a  sofa,  she  mourned  in  silence  and 
alone  until  her  husband  came  in  for  his  sup- 
per. Then  she  gave  him  an  account  of  her 
visit. 

The  sergeant  laughed  until  he  grew  purple 
in  the  face.  "  Bess,"  he  said,  "  you  want  an 
adopted  mother  yourself.  You're  not  used  to 
managing  children.  You  mustn't  fly  into  a 
temper  so  quickly." 

"  He  was  so  aggravating,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  Of  course  ;  but  think  of  the  way  he's  been 
brought  up.  Why,  he's  just  like  a  hunted 
animal  now.  The  weakest  thing  will  turn  at 
the  last.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  rat  in  a  cor- 
ner? He'll  fix  his  teeth  in  the  biggest  stick 
you  can  poke  at  him." 

"Don't  —  don't  compare  that  prince  of  a  boy 
with  a  rat,"  said  his  wife  dolefully. 


MRS.   HARDY  MAKES  A    CALL.  95 

"  There,  now,"  pursued  the  sergeant,  "  you're 
not  mad  with  him.  You  won't  let  any  one 
abuse  him  but  yourself.  You  still  want  him, 
I  see ;  so  he  has  got  to  come  here  —  and  any- 
way, law  and  order  must  be  preserved.  Even 
th«  cats  in  the  park  understand  that.  What 
do  you  think  I  found  the  king  doing  just 
now  ?  " 

"  I  don'.t  know,"  sighed  Mrs.  Hardy  in  an 
absent-minded  way. 

"  Well,  I  came  across  Squirrel,  King  Boozy's 
chum,  sitting  on  a  stump,  badly  mauled.  He 
was  by  turns  polishing  himself  off  with  his 
tongue,  and  watching  the  king,  who  was  lick- 
ing a  strange  cat.  Another  strange  cat,  that 
had  already  been  whipped,  was  running  away, 
and  I  figured  the  matter  out  this  way.  Squir- 
rel had  been  attacked  by  the  two  strangers ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  could  get  away,  he  had 
brought  the  king  up,  who  was  punishing  them 
thoroughly." 

"  I  don't  see  what  the  cats  have  to  do  with 
the  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  They  have   a   good  deal.     Don't   you  see 


96  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAEK. 

that  Boozy  is  an  old  head  now ;  he  was  dis- 
ciplining the  young  strangers  that  had  inter- 
fered with  Squirrel.  Now,  this  French  lad  is 
young  —  a  good  bit  younger  than  you  and  me. 
Of  course  he's  disagreeable.  Who  wouldn't 
be,  brought  up  as  he  has  been?  Parents  and 
guardians  have  to  lick  young  ones  into  shape. 
Now,  you  get  the  supper  ready,  and  I'll  have 
the  boy  here  in  a  jiffy,  and  you  can  punish 
him  any  way  that  you  like.  I  guess  it  will 
be  with  kindness ; "  and  with  a  soothing  pat 
on  her  head  her  husband  left  her. 


EUGENE  IS  ARRESTED.  97 


CHAPTER   VI. 

EUGENE   IS   ARRESTED. 

BRIDGET  had  gone  home.  Virtue  Ann  was 
putting  on  the  table  the  bread  and  chocolate 
that  was  to  compose  Eugene's  frugal  meal, 
and  the  boy  himself  was  sitting  in  a  dull  fash- 
ion by  the  window  in  so  deep  a  revery  that 
he  did  not  hear  the  door-bell  ring,  and  did 
not  see  Sergeant  Hardy  come  into  the  room. 

He  only  started,  and  looked  up  when  the 
words,  "At  your  service,  sir,"  uttered  in  deep 
voice,  fell  upon  his  ear. 

At  them  he  roused  himself,  and  rose  to  his 
feet ;  but  the  sergeant  neither  bowed  nor  of- 
fered to  shake  hands  with  him  in  a  friendly 
way  as  he  usually  did.  His  only  greeting  be- 
sides the  words  that  he  had  spoken  was  a  mil- 
itary salute.  Then  he  stood  stiffly  against  the 
wall  as  if  waiting  for  something. 

"Will  you  sit  down?"  asked  Eugene. 


98  THE  XING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"Against  orders,"  said  the  sergeant.  "I've 
come  to  arrest  you/' 

"  To  arrest  me,"  repeated  Eugene  wonder- 
ingly ;  "  what  is  it  that  I  have  done  ?  " 

"  Warrant  for  arrest  on  two  charges,"  said 
the  sergeant. 

"Will  you  mention  them,"  asked  Eugene 
frigidly,  and  yet  politely,  for  he  had  great  re- 
spect for  any  one  in  authority. 

"First  charge,"  said  the  sergeant  abruptly, 
"disdainful  despicability  of  my  wife's  affec- 
tions; second  charge,  murderous  and  malicious 
designs  against  your  own  precious  and  pecu- 
liar self." 

Eugene  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  des- 
picability ;  but  he  saw  the  mischievous  glitter 
in  the  sergeant's  eye,  and  he  suspected  that 
there  was  a  joke  somewhere.  "Suppose  I  re- 
fuse to  go,"  he  said  with  much  calmness  and 
deliberation. 

"  I'd  pick  up  your-  little  French  figure,  and 
put  it  under  my  arm,  and  you'd  be  in  jail  in 
no  time,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  So  I  am  to  go  to  prison,"  said  Eugene. 


EUGENE  IS  ARRESTED.  99 

"  Yes,  sir  —  private  jail,  permitted  through 
the  clemency  of  the  law." 

Eugene  smiled  a  little  wearily,  then  he  eyed 
the  sergeant  all  over.  He  had  penetration 
enough  to  discover  that  the  man  had  come 
there  with  the  determination  of  taking  him 
away,  and  he  knew  that  lie  might  as  well 
yield  first  as  last. 

4i  I  surrender,"  he  said  grandly ;  "  may  I  ask 
you,  Mr.  Officer,  until  when  I  am  to  be  in 
prison  ?  ' ' 

"  Six  weeks,"  said  the  sergeant  promptly. 

"  Will  you  show  me  the  warrant  for  my 
arrest?"  said  Eugene. 

The  sergeant  hesitated,  then  he  thrust  his 
hand  into  his  pocket,  and  drew  out  a  little 
wet  handkerchief. 

"  I  found  my  wife  crying  when  I  went 
home,"  he  said.  "  She  was  offended  and  an- 
noyed. I  took  this  little  muslin  rag  away  from 
her,  and  gave  her  my  big  '  mooshawr '  you  call 
it,  don't  you?" 

"No,"  said  Eugene;  "it  will  be  a  lettre  de 
cachet  in  this  case.  Virtue  Ann,"  he  went  on, 


100  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

addressing  the  maid  who  stood  gaping  at  them 
in  the  doorway,  "will  you  put  together  in  a 
bag  some  things  for  me.  It  is  necessary  that 
I  accompany  this  gentleman  to — you  did  not 
mention  the  name  of  the  prison,"  and  he 
turned  to  the  sergeant. 

"  To  the  Bastille,"  said  the  sergeant,  grin- 
ning delightedly  at  the  opportunity  of  showing 
a  little  knowledge  of  French  history. 

"To  the  Bastille,"  repeated  Eugene.  "So 
be  it.  As  a  prisoner  has  no  longer  rights,  will 
you  arrange  for  the  furniture  of  these  rooms 
to  be  sold,  and  some  money  paid  to  my  ser- 
vant?" 

tc  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant  again  saluting 
him. 

Eugene  went  to  a  desk  in  the  corner  of  the 
room,  and  took  out  some  photographs  and 
private  papers,  also  a  miniature  portrait  of  his 
grandfather,  which  he  put  into  a  black  bag 
that  Virtue  Ann  brought  in  and  laid  on  the 
table. 

At  last  he  announced  himself  ready;  and 
the  sergeant,  who  had  stood  by  the  door  during 


EUGENE  IS  ARRESTED.  101 

the  preparations  made  for  departure,  stepped 
forward,  and  took  the  bag  in  his  hand. 

Virtue  Ann  began  to  fidget  miserably  with 
her  apron,  while  Eugene  looked  at  her  with 
an  unmoved  face. 

"I  can't  let  you  go,  pretty  little  dear,"  she 
said  at  last,  standing  in  front  of  him,  and  af- 
fectionately smoothing  his  shoulder  with  her 
rough  hand. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  compose  yourself," 
said  Eugene  coolly. 

"  Aren't  you  sorry  to  leave  me  ?  "  cried  Vir- 
tue Ann  wildly.  "  You  little  cold,  cold  fish." 

"  Why  should  I  be  sorry  ? "  said  Eugene, 
holding  back  his  head ;  "  you  have  been  false 
to  me." 

"  False !  oh,  dear,  now  just  hear  him,"  said 
Virtue  Ann.  "  Well,  you've  got  to  let  me 
kiss  you  anyway,  you  bad-hearted  little 
thing ; "  and  she  stroked  his  black,  glossy 
head,  and  pressed  her  lips  to  his  forehead  in 
a  motherly  way. 

Eugene  made  a  slight  grimace,  and  drew 
himself  away  from  her,  while  the  sergeant 


102  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

looked  on  with  an  amused  smile,  and  mut- 
tered, "  I'd  like  to  know  what  it  is  about 
that  child  that  makes  the  women  crazy.  It 
must  be  out  of  sheer,  clear  contrariness,  be- 
cause he  doesn't  like  them,  or  else  it's  his 
fascinating  manners.  He  isn't  handsome  — 
not  a  bit  handsomer  than  I  am ;  come  on, 
young  sir,"  and  he  began  to  march  down- 
stairs. 

"  Before  we  get  in  the  street,"  he  said, 
pausing  in  the  lobby,  "  give  me  your  parole, 
sir,  that  you  won't  try  to  escape." 

Eugene  hesitated  to  give  it. 

"  You  couldn't  go  far,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"  for  I'd  be  sure  to  catch  you." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  boy;  "I  yield  to  the 
inevitable.  I  will  not  try  to  escape  until  a 
letter  comes  from  France." 

"  All  right,  inussoo,"  replied  the  sergeant ; 
and  he  tramped  on. 

Eugene  was  hungry  and  tired  and  inwardly 
disheartened,  though  he  kept  a  calm  exterior, 
and  he  was  well  pleased  to  arrive  in  front  of 
the  sergeant's  house. 


EUGENE  IS  ARRESTED.  103 

"  I  guess  we'll  excuse  your  attendance  at 
the  public  table  of  the  jail  this  evening,"  said 
the  sergeant  cheerfully.  "  Walk  right  along 
this  way  to  your  cell,  sir." 

Eugene  followed  him  down  the  hall  to  a 
little  bedroom  at  the  back  of  the  house.  It 
was  furnished  in  pale  colors,  and  a  pretty 
white  bed  stood  in  the  middle  of  it.  The 
window  was  open,  and  a  big  bowl  of  flowers 
was  placed  on  a  small  table  beside  the  bed. 

"  You're  to  have  solitary  imprisonment  till 
to-morrow  morning,"  said  the  sergeant  trying 
to  speak  sternly.  "  Your  jailer  will  bring 
you  some  supper  presently.  She's  a  woman, 
so  you  will  treat  her  harmoniously." 

Eugene,  still  holding  his  cap  in  his  hand, 
went  and  stood  by  one  of  the  open  windows. 
He  was  not  grateful  to  the  sergeant  for  in- 
troducing him  to  so  charming  a  prison.  He 
was  filled  with  a  blind,  wild  anger  at  the 
fate,  as  he  called  it,  that  had  laid  him  under 
an  obligation  to  these  strangers  whom  he  re- 
garded as  below  himself  in  the  social  scale ; 
and  he  was  all  the  more  angry  because,  child 


104  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

though  he  was,  he  had  the  acuteness  to  re- 
flect that  in  the  natural  course  of  things  his 
dissatisfaction  would  pass  away.  The  more 
he  thought  about  it  the  more  angry  he  be- 
came ;  and  yet  so  great  control  was  he  able 
to  exert  over  his  feelings  when  he  was  dis- 
posed to  do  so,  that  hardly  a  trace  of  his  in- 
ward disquiet  and  rebellion  appeared  on  his 
impassive  face. 

"  Good-night,  prisoner,"  said  the  sergeant 
abruptly.  "I'm  going  now.  Pleasant  dreams 
to  you." 

"  Good-night,  jailer,"  said  Eugene  in  a  re- 
pressed voice  ;  "  some  day  I  will  thank  you, 
but  not  yet." 

The  sergeant  shrugged  his  broad  shoulders 
and  walked  out  to  the  dining-room. 

"Bess,"  he  said,  laughing  softly  to  himself, 
as  he  watched  his  wife  flying  around  the  room 
a  pink  spot  on  each  cheek,  "I've  trapped  your 
fine  foreign  bird  for  you.  Tame  him  now  if 
you  can." 

"I'll  tame  him,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy,  tossing 
her  fluffy  white  head ;  and  she  went  on  with 


EUGENE  IS   ARRESTED.  105 

her  occupation  of  loading  a  tray  with  dainties 
for  the  young  prisoner. 

"  He'll  see  his  grandfather  to-night  sure,  and 
all  his  ancestors,"  said  the  sergeant  grum- 
blingly,  as  his  eyes  wandered  over  the  tray, 
44  if  he  eats  all  that.  What  are  you  thinking 
of,  Bess,  —  rich  plum-pudding  and  candy  for 
a  child  this  time  of  day." 

"I  thought  perhaps  he  would  like  to  look 
at  them,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy ;  "  and  there  are 
plenty  of  substantial  things.  See  this  corn 
bread  and  chicken,  and  these  vegetables." 

"  But  he  mayn't  pick  them  out." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  will !  he  is  a  sensible  boy  at 
heart,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  ;  and  she  fairly  ran 
from  the  room  and  down  the  hall  with  the  tray. 

Eugene  opened  the  door  when  she  called  to 
him,  and  at  the  sight  of  his  pallid  face  she 
almost  dropped  the  tray. 

In  silence  he  cleared  the  table  for  her  to 
rest  it  on.  In  silence  she  put  it  down  and 
gazed  at  him.  At  last  she  said  nervously,  "  I 
thought  you'd  rather  have  your  supper  in  here 
alone  than  to  come  to  the  table  with  us." 


106  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Thank  you  for  your  benevolence,"  he  said, 
inclining  his  head. 

Mrs.  Hardy  twisted  her  face  like  a  child 
about  to  cry.  "  Let  me  help  you  unpack  your 
bag,"  she  said  hastily.  "  The  supper  things 
won't  get  cold  for  a  few  minutes." 

Eugene  opened  the  bag,  and  she  shook  out 
the  clothes  as  carefully  as  if  they  had  belonged 
to  a  child  of  her  own.  Then  she  showed  him 
some  hooks  behind  a  curtain  where  he  could 
hang  them.  "And  there  is  the  bath-room," 
she  went  on,  opening  the  hall  door.  "  Perhaps 
you  will  like  to  take  a  warm  bath  by  and  by. 
I  will  put  some  fresh  towels  in  for  you.  Now 
I  shall  leave  you  alone,  and  not  bother  you 
until  the  morning.  Good-night;"  and  she 
looked  at  him  wistfully. 

Eugene  opened  the  door  for  her,  and  stood 
in  polite  weariness  beside  it.  Then  one  by 
one  big  tears  began  to  roll  down  his  cheeks. 
He  did  not  know  why  they  came  there,  and 
he  made  no  effort  to  brush  them  away. 

"Do  you  remember  your  mother?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hardy  softly. 


EUGENE  IS  ARRESTED.  107 

"  No,  madam ;  she  died  when  I  was  an  in- 
fant." 

"  And  have  you  never  had  a  woman  to  love 
you  and  call  you  her  child,  and  tuck  you  in 
your  little  bed  at  night  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"I  have  always  had  a  bonne,  a  nurse,"  said 
Eugene  —  "  many  of  them ;  but  my  grandfather 
is  the  only  mother  I  have  had." 

"  And  is  there  no  one  in  the  world  that 
you  love  now  —  no  one  that  you  cling  to  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  memory  of  my  grandfather  and 
of  his  Majesty  the  emperor." 

"  You're  th.e  queerest  little  boy  I  ever  saw. 
You  are  something  like  the  Chinese.  They 
worship  their  ancestors." 

"  Possibly,"  said  Eugene  with  a  doubtful 
glance,  as  if  he  questioned  the  truth  of  her 
statement. 

"  And  you  really  don't  care  for  any  one," 
said  Mrs.  Hardy.  "  You  must  excuse  my  cu- 
riosity ;  but  I  never  saw  man,  woman,  or  child 
like  you." 

"  I  must  care  for  myself,"  said  Eugene  sol- 
emnly. 


108  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  I  know  Avhat  is  the  matter  with  you," 
said  Mrs.  Hardy  triumphantly.  "  It's  just  the 
trouble  your  great  emperor  suffered  from.  He 
hadn't  much  faith  in  human  nature,  and  he 
despised  women." 

"  The  great  emperor  was  but  a  man,"  said 
Eugene  stiffly. 

"He  was  concentrated  selfishness,"  said  Mrs. 
Hardy.  "  I  am  selfish,  my  husband  is,  every- 
body is ;  but  Napoleon  was  worse  than  we  are. 
But  why  do  you  cry?"  for  the  tears  were 
still  rolling  down  Eugene's  cheeks  in  a  slow 
and  sober  procession. 

He  dabbed  at  his  face  with  his  handkerchief. 
"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  Since 
you  have  been  speaking,  I  have  been  looking 
out  that  window  toward  the  park  where  your 
homeless  cats  live.  I  did  not  comprehend 
about  them  the  other  day;  now  my  soul  en- 
ters the  cats'  bodies,  as  we  might  say,  and  I 
feel  the  dismay  that  must  fill  them  when  they 
have  lost  their  homes  and  their  protectors.  It 
is  horrible.  One  becomes  filled  with  anguish 
and  bewilderment.  Where  shall  one  turn  ?  " 


EUGENE  IS   ARRESTED.  109 

"Do  you  know  what  that  feeling  is  that 
makes  you,  as  you  suppose,  cry  for  the  cats  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Hardy  with  great  gentleness. 

While  Eugene  paused  to  frame  a  reply,  she 
went  on,  "  It  is  sympathy.  You  are  beginning 
to  understand,  and  you  are  on  the  high  road 
that  leads  away  from  selfishness.  Usually  we 
begin  with  the  human  family  and  descend  to 
the  animals.  You  are  going  backward.  Your 
pity  for  the  cats  makes  you  see  in  them  some- 
thing more  than  mere  hairy  creatures  crawl- 
ing over  the  ground,  as  you  styled  them  the 
other  day." 

"  I  see  in  them  suffering  beings,"  said  Eu- 
gene intensely.  "Their  situation  is  like  mine." 
He  stopped  abruptly,  and  leaned  his  head  on 
the  arm  that  he  had  stretched  out  against  the 
wall. 

"  When  my  husband  was  a  lad  he  disliked 
animals  and  was  cruel  to  them,"  said  Mrs. 
Hardy.  "  Then  he  had  a  serious  illness.  Two 
kittens  that  his  mother  owned  used  to  sit  on 
his  bed,  and  watch  him  affectionately.  He 
got  to  love  them  ;  and  now  he  has  the  kindest 


110  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

heart  for  dumb  animals,  and  also  for  men  and 
women,  of  any  man  I  know.  Now  I  will 
leave  you,  for  you  are  tired.  Good-night,  dear 
boy.  God  bless  you ; "  and  she  went  quietly 
away,  and  left  him  alone  as  she  knew  he 
wished  to  be. 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAB.       Ill 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SERGEANT  TALKS  OF  WAR  AND  OTHER 
THINGS. 

THE  next  morning  Eugene  was  ill.  He  was 
not  a  very  strong  boy,  and  he  had  had  more 
excitement  and  mental  anxiety  during  the  last 
few  days  than  his  slender  frame  and  sensitive 
soul  could  withstand. 

For  some  days  he  was  obliged  to  keep  his 
bed,  where  he  was  faithfully  waited  on  by  the 
keepers  of  his  pretty  prison. 

Mrs.  Hardy  was  the  chief  jailer;  and  although 
he  uttered  only  polite  conventional  expressions 
of  gratitude  that  she  knew  did  not  come  from 
his  heart,  she  felt  sure  that  she  would  in  time 
win  her  way  into  his  stubborn  affections. 

"The  great  thing  is  to  keep  my  temper 
with  him,"  she  said  to  her  husband  one  day ; 
"  he  is  so  provoking  sometimes,  without  mean- 
ing to  be  so." 


112  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  All  boys  are,"  said  the  sergeant  consol- 
ingly, "  and  most  men  and  women  too,  for 
that  matter.  Nobody  can  keep  their  temper 
all  the  time.  According  to  my  doctrine,  you 
lose  it  just  as  seldom  as  you  can  ;  and  when 
you  do,  don't  kick  up  a  fuss  about  it;  but 
just  do  some  little  thing  that  lets  people 
know  you're  sorry,  and  then  take  a  fresh 
sheet  and  start  over  again." 

"  When  I  speak  sharply  to  him,  I  think  it 
my  duty  to  apologize,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  Now,  Bess,  none  of  that,"  said  her  hus- 
band, "if  you  don't  want  to  get  priggish.  I 
know  you.  You're  quick  and  sensitive,  •  and 
you  think  you've  got  to  say  '  forgive  me  ' 
every  time  you  look  the  wrong  way.  That 
boy  will  despise  you  if  you  keep  running  to 
him  with  apologies.  I  used  to  know  a  fellow 
out  West,  Wash-house  Billy  we  called  him, 
because  he  was  forever  scrubbing  himself  — 
well,  that  chap  was  so  self-righteous  that 
every  time  he  played  a  mean  trick  on  any 
one,  he'd  go  trotting  after  him  with  a  c  for- 
give me  '  dropping  from  his  lips.  He  got 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAR.       113 

knocked  down  one  time  for  apologizing  to  a 
half-breed  that  wasn't  used  to  it.  Then  he 
had  to  explain  ;  and  the  half-breed  swore  at 
him,  and  said  he  didn't  want  any  of  his  half- 
cooked  words.  If  he  was  sorry,  let  him  act 
it.  Deeds,  not  words,  were  what  he  wanted. 
The  rest  of  us  were  very  glad;  for  Wash- 
house  Billy  had  got  into  the  bad  habit  of 
treating  us  all  as  mean  as  pickpockets,  be- 
cause he  was  always  ready  to  jump  from  his 
low  trick  to  his  high  one,  and  we  were  so 
dumfounded  by  his  prig  religion  that  we 
hadn't  the  spirit  to  knock  him  down  as  the 
half-breed  did.  If  the  boy  provokes  you,  he 
deserves  a  snub." 

"He  isn't  provoking,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy 
warmly,  "except  occasionally.  He's  the  sweet- 
est boy,  Stephen,  and  he  is  going  to  make  a 
fine  man  I  am  sure ;  and  he  asks  the  quaint- 
est questions  while  he  lies  in  bed  with  his  big 
black  e}^es  following  me  round  the  room." 

"  Is  he  getting  up  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  will  be  out  in  a  few  minutes." 

The  sergeant  went  on  with  his.  dinner,  and 


114  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

did  not  look  up  until  Eugene  came  into  the 
room.  "  How  are  you  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  haven't 
seen  you  before  to-day.  Don't  you  want  to 
put  on  your  cap,  and  come  to  the  park  with 
me?" 

"I  will  go  with  pleasure,"  replied  Eugene. 
Before  he  could  get  to  the  hall,  Mrs.  Hardy 
had  run  there,  and  had  brought  his  cap, 
which  she  dropped  lightly  on  his  head. 

Eugene  lifted  it  off;  then,  as  if  to  apologize 
to  her  for  not  donning  it  until  he  reached 
the  door,  he  bent  over  her  hand,  and  lifting 
it  to  his  lips,  kissed  it  without  speaking. 

It  was  the  first  caress  he  had  given  her, 
and  her  face  flushed  with  pleasure  as  she  stood 
looking  after  him.  "  He  has  such  pretty  for- 
eign ways,"  she  murmured.  "  I  wish  he 
would  love  me." 

"It  is  agreeable  to  be  able  to  walk  out 
once  more,"  said  Eugene,  drawing  a  long 
breath,  as  he  sauntered  slowly  along  by  the 
side  of  the  sergeant. 

The  man  looked  down  at  him  in  a  kindly 
fashion.  "You'll  be  all  right  now,"  he  said, 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAR.       115 

"and  you  must  spend  a  lot  of  time  outside. 
Why,  here's  the  king  coming  to  meet  us;  we 
must  be  late  to-day." 

The  cat  turned,  and  walked  by  the  side  of 
the  sergeant,  occasionally  sniffing  at  the  paper 
parcels  he  carried  in  his  hand. 

"Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  stop  for  a 
minute  ?  "  asked  Eugene  suddenly. 

"What's  the  matter?"  said  the  sergeant. 

The  boy  pointed  to  the  bust  of  John  Boyle 
O'Reilly  that  they  were  approaching.  "  Some 
one  has  put  fresh  flowers  there,"  he  said  ex- 
citedly. "  I  have  been  ill  and  detained  from 
doing  it.  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  My  wife  and  your  jailer.  She  knows  about 
your  liking  for  the  emperor  and  O'Reilly,  and 
she  comes  here  with  a  bouquet  every  morning 
before  you're  up." 

"  Does  she  do  this  to  please  me  ?  " 

"  For  no  other  reason  that  I  know  of." 

Eugene  was  silent  for  a  short  time  as  if  he 
were  working  out  some  problem.  Then  he 
said  earnestly,  "  Have  you  ever  found  her 
deceitful?" 


116  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Not  as  yet,"  said  the  sergeant  cheerfully. 
"Of  course  we  never  know  how  folks  may 
turn  out." 

"No;  one  never  does,"  said  Eugene  with  a 
sigh. 

"  Generally  speaking,  we  turn  out  as  we  be- 
gin," said  the  man.  "  There's  a  fine  opening 
for  a  sermon,  my  boy,  only  I'm  not  good  at 
preaching.  You'll  have  to  draw  your  own 
conclusions." 

Eugene  gave  him  a  long  and  scrutinizing 
look ;  then  he  said,  with  a  compassionate  glance 
at  King  Boozy  who  was  mewing  coaxingly 
about  the  bags,  "Suppose  we  proceed." 

"  All  right,  my  boy ;  "  and  the  sergeant  walked 
nimbly  on  until  they  reached  the  cats'  dining- 
room  under  the  shrubbery,  where  he  spread 
on  the  ground  a  sheet  of  brown  paper,  and 
emptied  on  it  a  medley  of  chicken  and  beef 
bones.  Then  drawing  a  tin  can  from  among 
the  leaves,  he  filled  it  with  milk  from  a  bottle 
in  his  pocket. 

King  Boozy  mewed  to  his  chum  Squirrel; 
and  the  two  cats  crouched  down  beside  their 


THE  Two  CATS  CROUCHED  ISKSIDI:  THEIR  FESTAL  BOARD. 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAR.       117 

festal  board,  and  daintily  proceeded  to  eat  up 
everything. 

"Do  you  do  this  every  day?"  asked  Eugene. 

"  Every  day  as  regular  as  the  sun." 

"  It  is  a  thoughtf  ulness  on  the  part  of  the 
city  to  provide  for  homeless  beasts." 

"  The  city !  bless  you,  my  boy,  the  city 
doesn't  do  it." 

"  Do  you  supply  this  food  yourself  ?  "  asked 
Eugene  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  young  sir  ;  why  not  ?  " 

"For  cats,  for  vermin,  or  what  I  was  for- 
merly accustomed  to  call  vermin?"  continued 
the  boy  in  polite  astonishment. 

"  Vermin  must  live,"  said  the  sergeant. 
"  Brute  vermin  protect  the  human  vermin.  If 
I  had  time  I'd  tell  you  some  of  the  uses  of 
cats ;  but  I  haven't,  and  I  guess  you'd  get 
bored  if  I  had.  Let  us  go  down  to  the  lower 
cat-house.  I  have  some  more  food  in  this  other 
bag." 

"Unless  you  are  a  rich  man,"  said  Eugene 
as  they  entered  a  shady  path,  "  I  think  that 
the  city  should  feed  the  cats  that  serve  it." 


118  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  The  city  might  if  it  was  asked,"  said  the 
sergeant  good-naturedly;  "  but  I'd  like  to  see 
myself  sending  in  a  requisition  for  cats'  meat. 
It  only  costs  a  few  dollars  a  week  to  feed 
them." 

Eugene  murmured  an  almost  indistinct  re- 
ply, and  fell  into  a  brown  study  that  lasted 
until  they  reached  the  second  colony  of  cats. 

"You  musn't  walk  any  farther,"  said  the 
sergeant,  after  he  had  scattered  the  second 
supply  of  food  on  the  ground,  and  the  cats 
had  come  scampering  and  cuffing  each  other 
aside  to  reach  it.  "  Come  into  the  office  and 
rest.  I  have  to  wait  here  a  while." 

Eugene  went  with  him  into  a  little  wooden 
building,  and  sat  down  by  the  window  where 
he  could  watch  the  animals  outside.  "Their 
coats  are  very  thick,"  he  said  musingly,  "  or 
is  it  that  they  are  sticking  out  their  hairs  ? " 

"  No  ;  their  coats  are  really  heavy.  They 
get  that  way  after  they  have  lived  out-doors 
for  some  time." 

"  Have  these  animals  all  been  cast  out  by 
some  one  ?  " 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAE.       119 

"Every  man  Jack  of  them,"  said  the  ser- 
geant; "cast  out,  or  frightened  out,  or  scolded 
out,  or  kicked  out.  They  come  mewing  and 
cringing  to  this  park,  most  of  them  scared 
out  of  their  lives,  only  here  and  there  a  bold 
one." 

"  Unfortunates,"  said  Eugene  bitterly,  "  it 
would  be  better  for  them  to  die." 

"  They  think  it  more  fun  to  live  and  have 
a  good  time.  They  don't  mind  dependence. 
Bless  you,  we've  all  got  to  be  looked  after. 
Where  would  I  be  if  I  hadn't  my  wife  to 
take  care  of  me?  what  would  she  do  without 
me?" 

"  Have  no  thought  for  her,"  said  Eugene 
magnificently.  "  If  misfortune  befalls  you,  I 
shall  take  her  under  my  protection." 

The  sergeant  stared  hard  at  the  cats,  and 
tried  not  to  smile. 

"  After  my  fortune  comes  from  France,  I 
shall  remember  you,"  said  Eugene. 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  the  sergeant  de- 
murely. "May  I  ask  you  whether  you  intend 
remaining  in  this  country  ?  " 


120  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARE. 

"  Yes ;  I  shall  not  live  under  that  villan- 
ous  republic.  My  grand-uncle  will  send  me 
not  the  whole,  he  is  too  avaricious  for  that, 
but  a  part  of  the  fortune  that  rightfully  be- 
longs to  me.  I  shall  go  to  a  military  school, 
of  which  I  am  assured  there  are  good  ones 
in  this  country;  then,  when  I  become  a  man, 
the  republic  of  France  will  probably  be  no 
more.  We  shall  have  our  empire,  and  I 
shall  return,  and  take  service  under  the  Bona- 
partes." 

"You  are  quite  sure  that  your  grand-uncle 
will  send  you  some  money  ?  " 

At  this  remark  Eugene  turned  such  a  startled 
face  toward  his  companion  that  the  latter, 
finding  that  he  had  surprised  the  boy  out  of 
his  usual  composure,  made  haste  to  change 
the  subject  of  conversation. 

"  So  you  want  to  be  a  soldier,"  he  said. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  the  only  profession  for  a  gen- 
tleman." 

"Napoleon  made  a  pretty  big  thing  of  war," 
said  the  sergeant. 

"  Oh !  an  enormous  thing.     I  should  like  to 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAR.       121 

be  a  second  Napoleon ;  "  and  Eugene's  eyes 
sparkled. 

"I  don't  take  much  stock  in  war,"  said 
the  sergeant. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  would  not  fight?" 

"  No ;  I  mean  I  don't  like  it." 

"  You  do  not  —  how  very  extraordinary. 
How  does  it  happen  ?  " 

"  Because  I've  been  in  it." 

"You  have  seen  active  service,  have  been 
in  engagements,"  exclaimed  Eugene.  "  Oh ! 
why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  " 

"It  never  occurred  to  me,"  said  the  ser- 
geant; "and  unlike  most  men  I'm  not  fond 
of  talking  of  it." 

"Your  rank,"  said  Eugene  feverishly,  "and 
the  country  you  fought  in,  will  you  not  tell 
me?" 

"  Rank,  drummer-boy ;  country,  my  own  na- 
tive land  and  its  last  war ;  enemies,  brother- 
men.  Boy,  I  don't  like  war." 

"Why  not,  oh,  why  not?" 

"I'll  tell  you  presently.  You  tell  me  first 
what  your  idea  of  war  is." 


122  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  We  have  a  picture  of  my  great-grandfather 
in  white  huzzar  uniform,"  said  Eugene  enthu- 
siastically. "He  is  magnificent.  In  the  hall 
of  our  chateau  in  France  hangs  also  a  painting 
of  my  great-great-grandfather,  mounted  on  his 
charger  Austerlitz.  He  waves  his  arm  in  the 
air;  he  encourages  his  men.  They  are  about 
to  charge  the  enemy.  He  reminds  them  that 
they  fight  for  their  country,  their  emperor  — 
oh !  it  makes  one's  blood  stir  to  look  at  it." 

"  That's  mostly  the  picture  outsiders  draw," 
said  the  sergeant  mildly.  "  They  always  fancy 
handsome  officers,  stainless  uniforms,  a  lot  of 
enemies  waiting  somewhere  to  be  cut  down 
like  sheep.  It's  all  glory  and  paint  and  a  lot 
of  big  figures  in  histories  and  newspapers. 
But  there's  another  side  to  it  after  you've 
been  in  a  battle.  In  the  first  place,  I  should 
say  war  is  a  dirty  thing." 

"  A  dirty  thing,"  said  Eugene  wonderingly. 
44  What  is  that  for  an  epithet?" 

"  It's  a  suitable  one,"  replied  the  sergeant 
coolly.  "  In  the  first  place,  war  is  dirty  ;  in  the 
second,  it's  low ;  and  in  the  third,  it's  needless." 


THE  SERGEANT  TALKS   OF  WAR.       123 

"  I  do  not  understand  you ; "  and  Eugene 
made  a  gesture  expressive  of  slight  contempt. 

"  Look  here,"  said  the  sergeant,  dragging 
his  chair  up  to  the  table,  and  bringing  a  lead- 
pencil  from  a  drawer.  "  Here  on  this  side  of 
the  table  imagine  gray  men,  imagine  blue 
there.  They  haven't  one  earthly  tiling  against 
each  other,  but  they've  got  to  rend  and  tear 
each  other's  mortal  bodies  to  preserve  the 
independence  of  the  Union.  The  subject  of 
their  dispute  is  a  grand  one,  a  glorious  one  ; 
and  if  there  wasn't  any  other  way  to  settle  it 
they'd  have  to  whack  each  other,  and  beat  the 
life  out  of  each  other's  bodies,  but  there  is 
another  way." 

"  Wars  must  take  place,"  said  Eugene  firmly. 
"  My  grandfather  asserts  it." 

"  Your  grandfather  is  —  that  is,  you  are  mis- 
taken. Wars  don't  need  to  take  place.  In 
the  late  one  in  this  country,  when  we  were  all 
seething  hotheads,  why  didn't  we  apply  to 
foreign  countries  to  settle  our  dispute?" 

"  Arbitration  —  ah  !  that  is  not  for  gentle- 
men," said  the  boy  proudly. 


124  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

The  sergeant  smiled.  "  Lad,"  he  said,  "  you're 
just  like  all  the  rest  of  growing  things.  You 
have  got  to  learn  for  yourself.  You  won't 
take  a  leaf  out  of  any  other  body's  book.  Do 
you  believe  me  when  I  say  that  if  you  were 
to  enlist  to-day,  and  go  on  the  field  to-morrow, 
that  your  little  body  would  quiver  and  shake, 
and  you'd  want  to  turn  tail  and  run,  like 
one  of  those  cats,  when  you  heard  the  big 
guns?" 

"  I  would  never  run."^ 

"  Possibly  you  might  not,"  said  the  sergeant 
amiably.  "I'm  not  going  to  say  that  all  men 
do,  though  I  believe  most  men  want  to.  Well, 
we'll  say  you've  got  through  the  first  engage- 
ment, and  have  a  nice  undangerous  wound  in 
the  fleshy  part  of  your  leg.  You'd  admire 
the  battlefield,  wouldn't  you,  and  the  agony  of 
men  and  horses  heaped  up,  and  you'd  go  to 
the  hospital  and  see  the  wounded,  and  smell 
the  sickening  smells,  and  enjoy  yourself?" 

"  A  soldier  must  look  on  blood." 

"  Yes,  he  must  —  tears  and  blood.  Why, 
lad,  if  all  the  women  that  lost  husbands  and 


THE  SERGEANT  TALKS   OF  WAR.       125 

fathers  and  lovers  could  hover  over  a  battle- 
field, there  would  be  a  good  sharp  shower  like 
rain  on  it." 

^  It  is  necessary  for  women  to  cry,"  re- 
marked Eugene. 

"  Yes  ;  that's  true.  I  guess  men  would  be 
a  little  better  to  shed  tears  now  and  again. 
Well,  lad,  I  hope  no  woman  will  ever  have  to 
cry  because  your  body  has  been  made  a  target 
of.  I  hope,  too,  that  you'll  never  be  stood  up 
and  have  an  awful  moment  when  you  wonder 
what  in  the  name  of  common-sense  you  have 
done,  or  your  ancestors  have  done,  that  you 
shouldn't  be  allowed  to  live  out  this  life,  which 
is  tricky  anyway,  but  should  be  set  up  for  a 
plaything,  not  for  butchers,  but  for  decent 
human  beings,  that  haven't  the  faintest  bit  of 
spite  against  you.  But  good  gracious,  I'm 
preaching  a  sermon,  which  is  always  against 
my  principles." 

"  I  like  to  talk  of  war,"  said  Eugene  ;  "  it 
makes  me  feel  warm.  You  have  of  course  read 
of  Napoleon  and  his  glorious  campaigns  ?  " 

The  sergeant  nodded.     Eugene  had  turned 


126  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

his  back  to  the  window,  and  sat  confronting 
him  with  flaming  cheeks.  He  had  forgotten 
the  very  existence  of  the  cats. 

"He  was  the  greatest  soldier  the  world  has 
ever  seen,"  pursued  the  lad. 

"  Well,  granted  he  was,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"what  did  he  get  out  of  it?" 

"  Glory,  honor,  victory,  and  reputation  for 
France." 

"  And  a  lonely  prison  without  a  razor  to 
shave  his  upper  lip,  according  to  you,"  said  the 
sergeant,  "  though  I  think  you  are  rather  hard 
on  England  in  that." 

"  At  the  last,  yes,"  said  Eugene ;  "  but  his 
career  up  to  that  was  magnificent." 

"  I  don't  see  the  magnificence  of  it,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "  He  set  all  Europe  by  the  ears ;  he 
stirred  up  the  kings  and  emperors ;  he  turned 
things  topsy-turvy,  and  in  the  end  left  France 
no  better  than  he  found  her.  His  ambition 
was  too  big  for  his  little  body.  He  should  have 
stopped  half  way  in  his  course." 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  said  Eugene  im- 
patiently. 


THE  SERGEANT   TALKS   OF   WAE.       127 

"And  he  strewed  dead  Frenchmen  all  over 
Europe,"  said  the  sergeant,  "and  not  one-half 
of  them  knew  what  they  were  fighting  about. 
What  do  you  think  of  the  retreat  from  Mos- 
cow, my  boy  ?  " 

"A  splendid  failure.  But  the  emperor  did 
not  know  all  things.  How  could  he  tell  what 
was  going  to  be  ?  " 

"I'll  corne  back  to  my  starting-point,"  said 
the  sergeant.  "  I  believe  we're  put  on  this 
earth  —  cats  and  dogs  and  beasts  and  men  — 
to  be  happy.  Any  one  or  anything  that  lifts 
his  hand  against  his  brother  throws  the  whole 
world  out  of  tune.  A  man  that  kills  anybody 
or  any  creature  without  cause  is  a  murderer  — 
I  don't  care  who  he  is  that  does  it ;  and  that's 
the  sum  of  the  whole  thing,  according  to  me, 
and  I'm  not  going  to  say  another  word.  You 
run  home  like  a  good  lad,  or  the  wife  will  be 
getting  worried  about  you.  We'll  talk  of  these 
things  another  time." 


128  THE   KING   OF  THE  PARK. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE   KING   TO   THE   RESCUE. 

ON  a  yellow,  dreamy  day  of  late  autumn, 
while  the  sergeant  was  strolling  through  the 
Fens,  he  came  suddenly  upon  little  Virgie 
Manning  and  her  nurse. 

"Hello,  little  miss!"  said  the  sergeant.  "1 
haven't  seen  you  for  a  long  time;  but  where 
did  you  get  those  flowers?  They  look  like 
some  of  the  park  golden-rod." 

"  Yes,"  said  Virgie  in  her  half-lisping  voice ; 
"  they  are  your  flowers,  Mr.  Policeman." 

"  But  you  musn't  pick  the  park  flowers," 
said  the  sergeant. 

"  And  sure  I  told  her  that  myself,"  said 
Bridget.  "  Now,  missy,  you  see  what  hap- 
pens to  naughty  girls.  Are  you  going  to 
take  her  to  prison,  Mr.  Officer  ?  " 

Virgie  laughed  gleefully.  She  was  not  at 
all  afraid  of  the  sergeant. 


THE  KING   TO   THE  RESCUE.  129 

"No,  not  this  time,"  he  said. 

"  Mr.  Policeman,"  said  Virgie,  "  one  time 
long  ago  weren't  you  a  weeny  boy?" 

"Yes,  I  was." 

"Did  you  love  the  pretty  flowerses?" 

"Yes,  I  did." 

"And  you  picked  them,"  said  Virgie,  "and 
naughty  big  men  scolded  you  ?  " 

"  No,  they  didn't ;  I  lived  in  the  country." 

"  Then,  you  mustn't  scold  me,"  said  Virgie 
gayly.  "  O  Bridget !  there  is  a  big,  big  fly 
with  blue  wingses.  You  stand  still  like  a 
mousie  while  I  catch  it,  'cause  if  you  runned 
you  might  starkle  it ; "  and  she  darted  away. 

"  And  is  the  French  boy  still  making  his 
home  with  you,  sir  ? "  asked  Bridget  curi- 
ously. 

"  Yes ;  he  is  still  with  us." 

"  And  he  doesn't  hear  from  his  bad  old 
uncle  in  France,  Virtue  Ann  tells  me." 

"  No ;  he  hasn't  as  yet,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  And  it's  a  great  comfort  to  Virtue  Ann 
that  you've  shielded  him,"  continued  Brid- 
get, "otherwise  she'd  have  cold  comfort  in  the 


130  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAliK. 

good  place  she's  found  for  herself.  4  Virtue 
Ann,'  said  I,  '  if  you  despise  your  luck  this 
time,  you'll  be  guilty  of  the  sin  of  onpru- 
dency.  Make  seven  crosses,  and  let  the  boy 
go,  and  you'll  find  you're  in  the  right  of  it.'" 

"  The  boy  is  always  glad  to  see  her,"  said 
the  sergeant  absently.  "  Hello,  Boozy,  what's 
the  matter?" 

"And  sure  that's  a  queer  cat,"  said  Brid- 
get, eying  the  black-and-white  animal  who  was 
mewing  excitedly,  and  walking  up  and  down 
at  a  little  distance  from  them. 

"  He  wants  to  show  me  something,  and 
badly  too,"  said  the  sergeant,  "or  he  wouldn't 
come  so  near  a  woman.  Go  on,  Boozy,  I'll 
follow." 

At  this  moment  little  Virgie  came  running 
up  crying,  "  The  naughty  fly  flewed  away. 
He  wouldn't  play  wif  me.  Oh !  there's  the 
sweet  pussy ; "  and  she  precipitated  herself 
toward  Boozy. 

The  king  was  in  great  distress.  He  sprang 
nimbly  from  side  to  side,  waving  his  tail 
angrily  in  the  air  as  he  tried  to  elude  the 


THE  KING    TO    THE  RESCUE.  131 

little  girl's  caresses,  and  at  the  same  time 
keep  the  attention  of  the  sergeant  fixed  on 
himself. 

"I  understand  you,  Boozy,"  said  the  ser- 
geant. "Walk  on,  and  I'll  come.  Look  here, 
little  girl,  you  stop  chasing  him,  will  you, 
and  take  my  hand?  We'll  see  what  he's 
leading  us  to." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  some  little  kittens  to  show 
us,"  suggested  Virgie. 

"No;  the  king  isn't  fond  of  kittens.  Prob- 
ably it's  a  mole  or_a  mouse  he's  caught,  or 
perhaps  his  chum  is  in  trouble.  One  day  he 
was  caught  in  a  wire  fence,  and  Boozy  came 
for  me  to  set  him  free.  Can  you  trot  along 
a  little  faster,  he  seems  to  be  in  a  hurry  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  child,  hopping  and  skipping 
along  by  his  side,  her  blue  eyes  wandering  to 
and  fro  across  the  broad  avenue.  "Where's 
Eugene?"  she  asked  suddenly,  "Virgie  hasn't 
seen  him  for  lots  and  lots  of  time." 

"  He's  in  the  park  somewhere,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "  He  spends  a  great  deal  of  time 
here.  He  has  taken  a  great  fancy  to  Boozy, 


132  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

and  sits  for  hours  watching  him.  I  guess  the 
cat  teaches  him  a  good  many  lessons." 

44  The  king  is  a  good  pussy,"  remarked 
Virgie  sagely. 

"  He  is  not  perfect,  but  he  is  about  as  good 
as  a  cat  can  be,"  said  her  companion. 

Virgie  stopped  to  pick  up  some  shining  peb- 
bles from  the  ground,  but  the  sergeant  hurried 
her  on.  "  Make  haste,  little  girl,  if  you  want 
to  come  with  me.  There's  something  queer 
about  the  king's  actions.  See  how  he  is  run- 
ning." 

Virgie  trotted  along  beside  him  again,  and 
her  nurse  quickened  her  footsteps  so  that  she 
might  keep  up  with  the  two  figures  ahead  of 
her. 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  exclaimed  the  sergeant, 
suddenly  dropping  the  child's  hand,  and  scram- 
bling down  a  slope  beside  them  ;  "just  look  at 
that  boy." 

"The  boy!  and  sure  there's  no  boy  to  be 
seen,"  said  Bridget,  who  had  heard  his  exclama- 
tion, and  paused  in  surprise  at  the  top  of  the 
little  hill,  and  looked  about  her. 


THE  KING    TO   THE  RESCUE.  133 

Just  below  them  was  a  marshy,  sedgy  pond. 
A  few  ducks  were  dabbling  in  the  mud  at  one 
end  of  it,  and  at  the  other  end  something  brown 
and  indistinct  was  moving  in  a  slow  and  con- 
fused way  among  the  rushes. 

"  I  guess  it's  Eugene,"  cried  little  Virgie, 
tearfully  clasping  her  tiny  hands.  "  I  guess 
he  runned  and  frowed  hisself  in  the  water." 

"Hush,  lovie,"  said  her  nurse,  putting  her 
arm  around  her.  "  There  isn't  much  water 
here,  it's  mostly  mud,  nor  any  boy  for  that 
matter.  Watch  and  see  what  the  quare  thing 
is." 

The  indistinct  figure  kept  going  to  and  fro, 
slightly  disturbing  the  rushes,  while  the  ser- 
geant rushed  back  and  forth  over  the  encircling 
firm  ground  as  if  looking  for  something. 

"And  sure  he's  crazy,"  muttered  Bridget. 
Then  she  tried  to  hush  Virgie,  who  was  crying 
apprehensively. 

"Do  you  see  a  rope  anywhere  up  there?" 
shouted  the  sergeant.  "  I  had  one  here  this 
morning.  Some  rascal  must  have  taken  it." 

Bridget  ran  about  a  little  among  the  under- 


134  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

brush.  "No,  sir,"  she  called  back;  "there's 
not  a  shadow  of  a  rope  nor  a  bit  of  a  plank 
here." 

"  Then,  I'll  have  to  go  in  myself,"  said  the 
sergeant  in  a  disgusted  voice.  "Eugene,  can't 
you  walk  out?  Come  this  way.  You  can  see 
me,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  blessed  saints  presarve  us ! "  cried 
Bridget,  "  that  quare  round  thing  is  the  head 
of  the  boy ;  and  it's  mud  he  is  —  and  there's  an 
arm  sticking  out  —  and  now  he's  almost  gone." 

Little  Virgie  gave  a  shriek.  Eugene  was  in- 
deed sinking  more  deeply  into  the  marsh  that 
would  soon  close  its  lips  over  him  if  he  should 
fall  down.  The  sergeant  made  one  brief  ex- 
clamation, and  snatching  off  his  coat  and  his 
helmet  threw  them  on  the  ground.  Then  he 
waded  in  to  the  spot  where  Eugene  had  been 
staggering  about,  and  stretching  out  an  arm  he 
drew  him  out  toward  the  dry  ground. 

"  May  I  be  forgiven  for  laughing,"  said 
Bridget,  clutching  Virgie  by  the  hand,  and 
hurrying  down  the  grassy  bank,  "  but  I  nivver 
saw  such  a  soight  in  my  life  —  and  sure  the 


Kr<iKXE   WAS   SINKING   MORE    DKEI'LV    INTO   THK   MAUSH. 


THE  KING   TO   THE  RESCUE.  135 

boy  is  brown  from  the  top  of  his  head  to  the 
sole  of  his  foot.  Mr.  Officer,  he  hasn't  fainted, 
has  he?" 

"  He's  half  choked  with  the  mud  and  the 
slime,"  said  the  sergeant  dryly.  "  Lend  me 
your  handkerchief,  will  you  ?  " 

He  was  bending  over  Eugene,  whom  he  had 
laid  on  the  ground.  Rapidly  and  skilfully  he 
wiped  the  boy's  face,  and  cleaned  his  head 
with  leaves  from  a  shrub  near  by. 

"  Take,  please  take  my  little  hankershniff," 
gasped  Virgie,  extending  a  microscopic  bit  of 
cambric. 

To  please  her  the  sergeant  wiped  Eugene's 
eyes  with  it;  then  he  said,  "Can  you  speak 
now,  boy  ?  " 

Eugene  struggled  to  a  sitting  posture,  and 
stared  solemnly  from  under  sticky  eyelashes 
at  them. 

Bridget  tried  not  to  laugh ;  but  she  was  not 
used  to  controlling  herself,  and  she  had  also 
been  a  little  frightened.  She  began  with  a 
little  squeal,  then  she  became  hysterical,  and 
laughed  and  cried  in  the  same  breath. 


136  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"If  ye's  could  only  see  yourselves,"  she 
said  spasmodically;  "so  gummed  up,  like 
two  alligators.  I  ask  yer  pardon  humbly,  but 
it's  too  ludicrous  that  ye  are  —  and  that  boy 
that's  always  like  a  picture,  so  nate  and  clane, 
and  yerself,  Mr.  Officer,  that  wears  the  fine 
uniform  —  sure,  you're  worse  than  the  men  in 
the  subway  with  the  clay  trousers." 

The  sergeant  smiled  grimly.  "I  don't  won- 
der you'ie  amused,"  he  said.  "  Tell  me,  Eu- 
gene, how  you  got  into  this  pickle." 

The  boy  cleaned  two  of  his  fingers  on  the 
grass,  and  took  a  last  remnant  of  earth  from 
his  mouth.  "  It  was  my  cap  that  I  was  after," 
he  said.  "  The  wind  blew  it  among  the  rushes. 
I  went  to  get  it  on  what  I  thought  was  a 
point  of  green  grass.  It  was  soft  mud  be- 
neath. I  went  in  to  my  ankles,  and  I  could 
with  difficulty  draw  my  feet  out.  Then  I 
walked  the  wrong  way,  and  fell  into  a  deep 
hole.  When  I  rose,  I  found  myself  in  to  my 
waist,  and  bewildered  and  sinking." 

"  Why  did  you  not  stand  still  and  call  for 
help?"  asked  the  sergeant.  "There  are  al- 
ways people  about." 


THE  KING    TO    THE  RESCUE.  137 

"  I  should  have  felt  like  a  coward,"  said 
Eugene,  proudly  holding  up  his  mud-plastered 
head. 

"I  don't  think  it  would  have  been  as  cow- 
ardly to  call  for  assistance  as  to  drop  down 
there  and  smother  to  death,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  I  thought  of  the  emperor,"  said  Eugene. 
" '  Why  do  you  duck  your  head  ? '  he  once 
asked  a  soldier  who  bent  to  avoid  a  round 
shot.  4  If  your  fate  is  not  there  you  might 
as  well  stand  up  straight.  If  it  is  there,  it 
will  find  you  though  you  bury  yourself  one 
hundred  feet  in  the  earth.' " 

"All  very  fine,"  said  the  sergeant;  "but  at 
the  same  time,  Napoleon  wasn't  the  man  to 
stick  in  a  mud-hole  while  he  had  a  good 
voice  in  his  body  that  would  help  him  out. 
Come,  boy,  we  had  better  make  our  way  home 
if  you  feel  up  to  it,  and  get  rid  of  these  clothes 
before  the  mud  dries  on  us." 

"  And  it's  home  we'll  have  to  be  going  too," 
said  Bridget  in  a  disapproving  voice.  She 
had  not  been  able  to  keep  her  warm-hearted 
little  charge  from  embracing  her  muddy  play- 


138  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

mate,  and  Virgie's  red  cloak  was  in  conse- 
quence disfigured  by  a  number  of  dark  streaks. 

"  I  wish  to  hug  the  good  pussy,"  said  Vir- 
gie,  drawing  back  as  she  caught  sight  of  King 
Boozy,  who  sat  on  the  bridge  above,  watching 
them. 

The  sergeant  laughed.  "  Boozy  hates  dirt 
and  disorder.  He  did  his  share  of  the  work, 
then  retired  to  watch  us.  Was  he  with  you, 
boy,  when  your  cap  blew  off  ? " 

"  Yes."  said  Eugene ;  "  he  was  following 
me  as  I  walked  to  and  fro  on  the  path." 

"And  when  he  saw  you  were  stuck,  he 
came  for  me,"  said  the  sergeant.  "  He  is  the 
most  knowing  cat  I  ever  saw.  Hello,  here's 
a  cart  coming  just  in  good  time  to  give  us  a 
lift.  You  look  fagged  out,  Eugene.  Give  me 
your  hand ;  now  jump  in." 

"Good-by,  dear  Eugene,"  called  Virgie. 
"  If  you  don't  play  in  the  naughty  mud  any 
more,  Virgie  won't  frow  stones  at  your  rem- 
peror;"  and  she  threw  kisses  to  him  until  he 
was  out  of  sight. 

"The  missis  will  be  astonished  to  see  us," 


THE  KING    TO   THE  RESCUE.  189 

said  the  sergeant,  as  they  jogged  along  in 
the  cart,"  but  she'll  have  us  cleaned  up  in 
no  time.  Boy,"  and  he  looked  slyly  at 
Eugene,  "you  didn't  like  cats  much  when 
you  came  to  us.  Would  you  mind  telling 
me  your  private  opinion  of  them  now?" 

A  smile  flitted  over  Eugene's  weary,  dirty 
face.  "  A  human  being  could  have  done  no 
more  for  me  this  morning  than  the  king  did," 
he  said  simply. 


140  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

MONSIEUR   LE   CUKE   ARRIVES. 

THE  sergeant  usually  spent  his  evenings 
at  home.  All  day  long  he  was  on  his  feet, 
and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  him  when  he  came 
in  at  night  to  settle  himself  in  a  comfortable 
armchair,  after  he  had  his  supper,  and  devote 
himself  to  some  interesting  book  until  bedtime. 

He  often  read  aloud  to  his  wife,  who  sat 
and  sewed  beside  him ;  and  one  evening,  after 
he  had  been  reading  for  some  time,  he  laid 
his  book  face  downward  on  the  small  table 
before  him,  and  said,  "  Where  is  the  boy  ? " 

Mrs.  Hardy  dropped  her  work,  and  moved 
aside  the  lamp  that  partly  hid  her  husband's 
face  from  her.  "  He  is  in  his  room,"  she 
said. 

44  He  usually  listens  to  me,"  said  the  ser- 
geant ;  44  he  isn't  moping,  is  he,  or  offended 
at  anything  ?  " 


MONSIEUR   LE  CUKE  ARRIVES.         141 

"Oh,  no!  he  never  does  that  now,"  laughed 
Mrs.  Hardy.  "  He  is  as  cheerful  as  possible. 

44  Queer,  isn't  it,"  said  the  sergeant,  "how 
any  one  gets  used  to  anything?  Does  he  ever 
speak  to  you  about  hearing  from  France  ?  " 

"Not  now;  he  used  to  when  he  first  came. 
He  thinks  of  it,  though." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  can  tell.     I  understand  him  so  well." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  he  came  here  ? " 

"Five  weeks  last  Wednesday." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  as  long  as  that,"  said  the 
sergeant  thoughtfully. 

"  The  time  passes  more  quickly  with  a 
child  in  the  house,"  observed  his  wife. 

"I  believe  it  does.  I'm  not  sorry  we  took 
him,  Bess." 

"  I  know  you  are  not,  Stephen.  I  would 
send  him  away  if  I  thought  you  were." 

Her  husband  sent  her  an  affectionate  glance, 
but  made  no  remark  for  some  time.  Then  he 
said,  "  What  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"Darning  a  pillow-case;  it  is  getting  old." 

"Why  don't  you  buy  some  new  ones?" 


142  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  I  must  economize  now,"  she  said.  "  It 
takes  more  to  keep  us  since  the  boy  came." 

"  But  you  will  have  plenty  by  and  by." 

"We  haven't  it  yet,  Stephen.  One  can't 
count  on  the  future." 

"  I  believe  it  is  a  pleasure  to  you,"  he  said 
under  his  breath. 

His  wife  caught  the  word  pleasure,  and  said, 
"What  did  you  say,  Stephen?" 

" 1  believe  you  like  to  scrimp  yourself  for 
any  one  you  like." 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  she  said,  laughing,  and 
tossing  her  white  head.  "  I  should  only  be 
half  a  woman  if  I  didn't." 

"  He  is  a  handsome  lad,  isn't  he  ?  "  said  the 
sergeant. 

"  Indeed  he  is.  Every  one  looks  at  him  in 
the  street.  Wasn't  it  a  joke  that  old  Mrs. 
Purdy  should  think  he  was  our  boy  ?  I  shall 
never  forget  the  way  Eugene  looked  at  her 
when  she  fell  on  his  neck,  and  said  he  was 
the  image  of  his  father." 

"  She  is  getting  old  and  stupid,"  said  the 
sergeant  indulgently,  "and  forgets  things. 


MONSIEUR  LE  CURE  ARRIVES.         143 

Hello,  here's  our  young  man,"  as  Eugene  came 
quietly  into  the  room.  "  What  have  you  been 
doing,  son  ?  " 

"  I  was  reading,"  said  Eugene ;  "  that  is," 
lie  added  hesitatingly,  as  he  met  Mrs.  Hardy's 
scrutinizing  glance,  "  I  was  looking  beyond 
my  history  lesson  for  to-morrow." 

"Your  first  statement  is  true,"  said  Mrs. 
Hardy  quietly.  "  If  you  were  only  reading, 
you  were  not  studying.  I  don't  care  to  have 
him  learn  lessons  in  the  evening,"  she  said  in 
an  explanatory  tone  to  her  husband,  "  because 
it  tires  him." 

44  No  child  should  study  in  the  evening," 
said  the  sergeant  gruffly. 

4CI  wished  to  find  out  what  Washington  did 
when  he  became  a  man,"  said  Eugene. 

"  You  like  to  read  about  the  father  of  this 
country,  don't  you  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"  I  do.  I  admire  him.  He  was  a  great 
man,"  said  the  boy. 

44  Greater  than  Napoleon  ?  "  inquired  the  ser- 
geant mischievously. 

Mrs.  Hardy   gently   pushed   his   foot   under 


144      THE  KING  OF  THE  PARK. 

the  table  when  she  saw  Eugene's  disturbed 
face,  but  the  sergeant  would  not  recall  his 
question. 

"  No,  no,  not  greater,"  said  the  boy  at  length, 
44  not  greater ;  I  cannot  forget  my  emperor ; 
but  General  Washington  was  better.  He  loved 
more  his  fellow-men." 

44  Bravo  !  "  said  the  sergeant ;  44  you'll  make 
a  first-class  citizen  of  the  United  States  yet." 

44  Never,"  said  Eugene  abruptly. 

The  sergeant  q-nd  his  wife  looked  earnestly 
at  him. 

44 1  shall  be  a  Frenchman  always,"  said  Eu- 
gene vehemently.  44 1  may  never  see  my  coun- 
try again;  but  I  love  her  —  I  would  die  for 
her;  "  and  he  grew  deathly  pale,  as  he  always 
did  when  he  was  much  moved. 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  sergeant,  u  The 
world  wants  more  boys  like  you.  Always 
stand  up  for  your  own  country,  but  be  chari- 
table to  others.  France  is  a  wide  word,  my 
boy,  but  there's  a  wider." 

44  You  mean  America  ?  " 

"No;  I  mean  the  world." 


MONSIEUR   LE   CURfi  ARRIVES.          145 

"  I  like  America,"  said  Eugene ;  "  but  I  de- 
test England." 

"There's  where  you're  wrong,"  said  the  ser- 
geant. "If  I  hated  England,  I  should  feel 
like  a  child  hating  my  mother.  They're  a 
magnificent  nation  over  there;  though  some- 
times they  provoke  us,  and  sometimes  we  pro- 
voke them.  However,  they'll  stand  more 
goading  from  us  than  they  will  from  any  other 
people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Just  you 
make  a  note  of  that,  my  boy.  You'll  find  it's 
true  some  day,  and  then  you  will  appreciate 
them." 

"Possibly,"  said  Eugene;  "in  the  day  that 
I  tolerate  the  republic  in  France." 

"  Queer  little  lad,"  said  the  sergeant,  affec- 
tionately laying  a  hand  on  Eugene's  smooth 
head.  "  You  can't  look  ahead  and  see  yourself 
a  tolerant  man  ?  " 

Eugene  rarely  let  a  question  go  unanswered. 
He  had  been  brought  up  to  reply  to  every  re- 
mark addressed  to  him ;  but  seeing  he  had  some 
difficulty  in  answering  this,  the  sergeant  went 
on.  "  I  can.  You  have  a  fair  start  toward 


146  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAEK. 

making  a  first-class,  —  what  is  it  they  call 
those  people  that  are  at  home  among  all  na- 
tions, —  oh,  yes,  a  cosmopolite.  Wife,  suppose 
I  go  on  with  my  reading?" 

"  Yes,  do,"  she  replied,  as  the  sergeant  again 
took  up  his  book. 

Eugene  sat  down  at  a  little  distance  from 
him,  and  listened  attentively  to  a  tale  of  far- 
away Africa.  Mrs.  Hardy  listened,  too,  for  a 
short  time ;  then  she  laid  down  her  work  and 
gazed  attentively,  first  at  the  boy  on  the  sofa, 
and  then  at  her  husband  beside  her.  Some- 
thing stirred  softly  in  her  heart  as  she  looked 
at  these  two  beings,  —  her  husband  and  her 
adopted  son.  For  them  she  felt  that  she  could 
endure  any  hardship,  any  privation.  If  the 
occasion  should  arise,  she  felt  that  she  could 
even  lay  down  her  life  for  them. 

"  I  used  to  think  that  I  was  happy,  but  I  am 
happier  now,"  she  murmured.  "  My  love  for 
my  husband  makes  me  love  the  boy  more,  and 
my  love  for  the  boy  makes  me  love  my  husband 
more." 

Eugene,  as  if  aware  that  her  attention  was 


MONSIEUR   LE  CUR&  AER1VES.          147 

concentrated  on  him,  began  to  fidget  in  a  sensi- 
tive way,  then  he  got  up  and  moved  to  a  chair 
next  her.  She  took  his  hand  in  hers,  and  the 
boy  leaned  his  head  against  her  shoulder  while 
he  again  listened  to  the  reading. 

At  last  the  sergeant  put  down  the  book. 
"  Wife,"  he  said,  "  it  is  half-past  nine." 

"  I  will  go  to  bed,"  said  Eugene,  rising  im- 
mediately. "  Good-night,  Mrs.  Hardy." 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  boy,"  she  said,  "  my 
son." 

A  curious  look  came  over  the  boy's  face.  He 
colored,  looked  confused,  and  she  thought  that 
his  parted  lips  were  forming  the  word  "  mother," 
when  suddenly  her  two  cats,  who  were  usually 
taken  with  a  spirit  of  mischief  about  bedtime, 
sprang  at  her  workbasket,  and  by  upsetting  it 
diverted  her  attention  from  Eugene. 

He  laughed  in  the  merry  way  that  he  had 
learned  since  coming  to  her  house ;  and  at  once 
he  and  the  sergeant  and  the  cats  engaged  in 
a  frolic,  and  by  turns  chased  each  other  and 
the  spools  of  thread  that  went  rolling  all  over 
the  floor. 


148  THE  KING    OF  THE  PAKE. 

Mrs.  Hardy  stood  looking  at  them  with  a 
smile  on  her  face  when,  in  the  midst  of  their 
fun,  they  heard  a  ring  at  the  door-bell. 

Eugene  jumped  up.  "  Allow  me  to  open  the 
door,"  he  said  in  his  pretty,  courteous  way ;  and 
Mrs.  Hardy  stood  aside  to  let  him  pass. 

The  parlor  door  remained  open ;  and  to  her 
surprise  she  heard  from  the  hall,  first  an  eager 
exclamation  from  Eugene,  then  a  succession  of 
rapid  French  sentences. 

"  Who  is  there  ? "  said  the  sergeant,  turn- 
ing his  red  face  toward  her. 

"  I  cannot  imagine.  Wait !  Eugene  is  bring- 
ing the  person  in." 

At  that  minute  the  boy  appeared  in  the 
doorwa}',  ushering  in  a  tall,  very  foreign-look- 
ing, brown -faced  man,  clad  in  a  black  cassock. 

The  boy's  cheeks  were  blazing,  and  his  eyes 
were  excited.  "  Mrs.  Hardy,"  he  said  in  a 
repressed  voice,  "  permit  me  to  present  to 
you  monsieur  le  cur£  De*joux  of  Chatillon- 
sur-Loir.  I  have  told  him  in  the  hall  that  it 
is  with  you  that  I  have  found  refuge.  Enter, 
monsieur." 


MONSIEUR   LE  CURfi  ARRIVES.          149 

The  sergeant  flashed  a  quick  glance  at  his 
wife.  How  would  she  stand  this?  The  priest 
probably  came  to  take  her  darling  back  to 
France.  To  his  relief  she  was  perfectly  calm, 
though  clearly  surprised.  She  looked  without 
consternation  into  the  grave,  kindly,  almost 
childish  face  of  the  stranger. 

The  sergeant  pressed  forward,  and  shook 
hands  with  his  caller ;  then  wondering  that 
his  cassock  should  be  so  handsome,  and  his 
boots  so  clumsy,  and  his  bare,  ungloved  hands 
so  brown,  he  pointed  to  a  chair,  and  begged 
him  to  be  seated. 

The  curd  bowed  once  more  in  a  paternal 
manner,  and  sitting  down,  looked  at  Eugene, 
who  stood  at  his  elbow  with  glittering  eyes 
that  scarcely  moved  from  his  face. 

"  You  are  here,  I  take  it,  from  the  boy's 
grand-uncle,"  said  the  sergeant,  coming  di- 
rectly to  the  object  of  his  caller's  visit. 

The  priest  did  not  understand  a  word  of 
what  he  said.  He  spread  out  his  hands,  then 
turned  to  Eugene,  who  had  at  last  ceased  to 
hover  about  him,  and  had  dropped  on  a  stool 
by  his  side. 


150  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Monsieur  understands  English,"  said  the 
boy,  "  if  you  will  speak  slowly.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

The  priest  smiled,  and  showed  a  good  set 
of  white  teeth.  "  Yes,"  he  said  in  a  stum- 
bling voice.  "  Vairy,  vairy  slow." 

"  You  —  have  —  come  —  for  —  Eugene,  I 
suppose,"  said  the  sergeant  spasmodically. 

"  I  comprehand  parfaitement"  returned  the 
priest.  It  ees  true,  I  come  to  seek  heem." 

"  It  is  getting  late  now,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy 
with  a  glance  at  the  clock,  "and  Eugene  will 
be  too  much  fatigued  to  sleep.  Suppose  we  put 
off  our  business  conversation  till  the  morning, 
and  talk  of  other  things." 

The  priest  turned  his  gentle  face  toward 
his  hostess.  He  had  not  understood  what  she 
said. 

Eugene  put  her  sentences  into  liquid  French 
for  him ;  and  he  made  a  gesture  of  assent, 
and  said  in  laborious  English,  "  Madame  has 
right." 

"  Ah,  no,"  said  Eugene ;  "  I  could  not  sleep. 
With  Mrs.  Hardy's  permission,  let  us  talk  a 
long,  long  time.  Tell  me  of  France,  dear 


MONSIEUR  LE  CURE  ARRIVES.         151 

monsieur  le  cure.  Are  you  still  in  the  little 
village  below  the  chateau  ?  " 

"  Steel  there,  excep'  when  I  voyage  in 
Ame'rique,"  said  the  priest  in  peaceful  amuse- 
ment. "  Nevair  have  I  voyage  before." 

"  And  my  uncle  received  my  letter  ?  "  said 
Eugene. 

"  He  deed,"  said  the  priest  seriously. 

"  And  he  showed  it  to  you  ?  " 

"  No,   no  ;  he  deed  not  that." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  what  I  had  written  ? " 
asked  Eugene. 

"  No,   my  chile." 

"  He  was   angry,  for  example  ?  " 

"  Well  angry,  leetle  one.  Thou  deed  write 
wrong,  ees  it  not  ?  " 

"Possibly  I  did,"  said  Eugene  with  a  shrug 
of  his  shoulders  ;  and  for  the  first  time  Mrs. 
Hardy  found  her  suspicion  verified  that  the 
boy  had  had  some  prickings  of  conscience 
about  the  letter  that  he  had  written  to  his 
grand-uncle. 

"  Thy  faikel  has  many  cheeldren,"  said  the 
cure  amiably. 


152  THE  KING  OF  THE  PARK. 

"  He  has  but  a  son  and  a  daughter,"  re- 
joined Eugene  hastily. 

"  But  the  cheeldren's  cheeldren,"  said  the 
priest,  expanding  his  hands.  "  Many  they 
are,  like  the  birds  of  the  feelds." 

"  Therefore,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  slowly,  "  he 
cannot  do  much  for  Eugene.  Is  that  what 
you  wish  to  say  ?  " 

"  Pardon,  madame,"  said  the  cure. 

Eugene  explained  what  she  meant,  and  the 
priest  assented  by  a  profound  bow. 

"But  he  has  sent  me  money,"  said  Eugene, 
frowning  slightly.  "  Much  money,  has  he 
not,  monsieur  le  cure*  ?  " 

The  cure  shook  his  head.  "  He  has  sent 
me  —  not  money.  Monsieur  thy  onkel  wishes," 
and  he  directed  his  remark  to  Mrs.  Hardy, 
"  that  thees  dear  boy  return  to  hees  country." 

"Pause  a  moment,  monsieur  le  cure*,"  said 
Eugene  urgently,  "  and  pardon  me,  Mrs. 
Hardy,  thougli  it  is  not  civil  to  speak  a  lan- 
guage you  do  not  understand,  but  I  cannot 
wait;"  and  then  ensued  a  brief  colloquy  "be- 
tween them  in  French. 


MONSIEUR   LE   CURE  ARRIVES.         153 

The  boy's  face  grew  paler  and  paler,  and 
his  manner  quieter,  as  they  proceeded,  while 
the  cure  became  flushed  and  eloquent. 

"Eugene  is  suffering,  poor  lad.  I  wonder 
what  the  priest  is  saying,"  murmured  Mrs. 
Hardy. 

At  last  the  conversation  was  over.  The  ex- 
pression of  hope  and  animation  that  had  illu- 
mined the  boy's  countenance  when  he  greeted 
the  cure*  had  all  died  away.  He  was  composed 
now,  and  almost  sullen. 

"All  is  over,"  he  said  with  a  despairing 
gesture ;  "  my  uncle  renounces  me." 

The  cure*,  who  was  listening  eagerly  to  him, 
caught  the  word  "  renounce." 

"Eugene,"  he  interposed  gravely,  uthou  de- 
ceivest  also  thyself  and  thy  iriends.  Willst 
thou  explain  ?  " 

Eugene  turned  to  the  Hardy s,  and  said  in  a 
dull  voice,  "  My  grand-uncle  offers  me  a  pit- 
tance which  I  do  not  receive  unless  I  go  to 
France  —  not  to  live  with  him,"  bitterly,  "  ah, 
no,  but  with  monsieur  the  cure." 

"  It  seems  to  me  from  what  I  have   heard 


154  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARE: 

you  say,"  remarked  the  sergeant,  "  that  you 
would  not  care  to  take  up  your  abode  with 
your  uncle." 

"  I  would  never  live  with  him,"  said  Eu- 
gene proudly ;  "  yet  he  should  offer  to  have 
me  inhabit  the  chateau  which  should  be 
mine." 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  live  with  this 
gentleman?"  asked  Mrs.  Hardy  in  a  tense 
voice. 

Eugene  turned  his  pain-stricken  face  toward 
her.  When  the  cure  had  first  appeared,  the 
lad  had  immediately  assumed  a  patronizing  air 
toward  the  two  people  who  had  been  as  adopted 
parents  to  him.  Now,  however,  his  pride  was 
all  gone.  His  grand  expectations  from  his 
uncle  were  not  to  be  realized.  He  felt  him- 
self to  be  a  poor,  despised  boy. 

"  What  does  it  matter  whether  I  like  it  or 
not,"  he  said  with  a  bitter  smile.  "  I  am 
obliged  to  go  to  France.  I  must  live  with  this 
good  man,  but  I  fear  that  I  shall  be  a  torment 
to  him.  However,  some  day  I  shall  revenge 
myself  on  my  uncle.  I  shall  study  it." 


MONSIEUR   LE  CURE  ARRIVES.          155 

"  Eugene,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  suddenly,  "  you 
must  go  to  bed;  you  are  not  yourself." 

"  You  will  spend  the  night  with  us,  will 
you  not?"  said  the  sergeant  hospitably  to 
their  visitor." 

The  priest  said  that  it  would  be  "  too  much 
pleasure,"  that  he  had  "  conveyed "  his  travel- 
ling-bag to  a  near  hotel,  and  that  he  was  sorry 
to  have  "  deranged  "  them  by  coming  so  late, 
but  he  had  been  detained  by  a  search  for  Eu- 
gene in  his  old  quarters. 

"That  doesn't  matter,"  said  the  sergeant; 
"  better  late  than  never.  I'll  go  with  you 
and  get  your  bag,  and  we  can  put  you  up 
here." 

The  priest  overwhelmed  him  with  thanks; 
and  while  the  sergeant  went  for  his  hat,  he 
looked  about  the  pleasant  room,  and  said  ap- 
preciatively, "Ah,  but  you  are  well  cossu 
here." 

"What  does  he  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Hardy. 

"It  is  like  a  bean  in  a  soft  pod,"  said  Eu- 
gene. "  One  uses  the  word  in  France.  This 
house  is  indeed  a  palace  compared  with  the 


156  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

house  of  the  poor  cure,"  he  went  on,  after  the 
priest  had  uttered  a  cheerful  au  revoir  and 
had  disappeared  with  the  sergeant. 

"  What  is  his  house  like  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Hardy  curiously. 

"  Chatillon-sur-Loir  is  a  small  village,"  re- 
plied Eugene.  "  There  is  a  broad  green  in 
the  centre  of  it.  On  one  side  in  a  thatched 
cottage  lives  the  cur£  with  old  Jeanne  his 
servant.  He  has  only  a  few  pieces  of  furni- 
ture. He  drinks  but  little  wine,  mostly  water 
or  mallow  tea;  and  he  eats  black  bread,  for 
the  white  is  dear.  He  wears  an  old  cotton 
cassock ;  the  one  that  he  has  on  is  probably  a 
gift  from  my  grand-aunt,  who  is  pious.  And 
he  gives  away  everything,  even  the  wood  for 
his  stove.  He  goes  from  his  cottage  to  the 
chapel  where  he  officiates ;  he  visits  the  peasants 
who  are  stupid.  He  saunters  to  and  fro  on 
the  green,  reading  his  breviary  or  the  Figaro. 
Oh,  it  is  a  charming  existence ! " 

Mrs.  Hardy  suppressed  a  smile.  "  You  would 
be  less  unhappy  with  us,"  she  said. 

Eugene  looked  at  her  quickly. 


MONSIEUR   LE  CURE  ARRIVES.         157 

"  Why  not  stay  with  us?"  she  murmured 
caressingly.  "  You  know  that  we  love  you, 
and  would  consider  you  our  child  if  you  would 
let  us." 

"  Oh,  no,  no ! "  said  Eugene,  raising  his  hands 
as  if  he  were  putting  some  temptation  from 
him.  "  Do  not  mention  this,  for  it  is  among 
the  impossible  things." 

"Good-night,"  she  said  abruptly;  and  she 
kissed  him  tenderly,  and  then  pushed  him  from 
her.  "  Go,  get  into  your  little  bed,  but  re- 
member this  when  you  are  fretting  there,  — 
that  there  is  always  one  heart  open  to  you, 
one  home  ready  for  you.  Whether  you  go  to 
France  or  stay  here  I  shall  always  look  upon 
you  as  my  boy." 

Eugene  paused.  Then  he  seized  her  hand, 
and  pressed  it  warmly  to  his  lips  before  he 
rushed  from  the  room.  There  were  tears  on 
the  hand  when  he  dropped  it,  and  Mrs.  Hardy 
sat  looking  at  it  steadfastly  until  her  husband 
came  in. 

u  I  just  slipped  the  stranger  into  his  room, 
Bess,"  he  said.  "  I  knew  everything  was  ready 


158  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

for  him,  and  I  thought  I  wouldn't  bother 
bringing  him  in  here  again  ;  for  we  folks  who 
have  to  get  up  early  want  to  get  to  bed  early. 
What's  the  matter?  You're  not  worrying,  are 
you?" 

"  No,  Stephen ;  it  seems  to  me  I  shall  never 
worry  again." 

"  Well,  you're  a  queer  little  woman,"  he  re- 
joined. "  You  worry  when  I  don't  expect  it, 
and  when  I  do,  you  don't." 

"  There's  nothing  to  worry  about  in  this 
case,"  she  said. 

"  That's  odd.  I  thought  you'd  be  struck  all 
of  a  heap.  I  nearly  was  when  I  took  in  the 
situation." 

uDo  you  suppose  that  child  is  going  back 
to  France?" 

"  I  guess  so.  It  looks  like  it.  I've  had  a 
great  talk  with  the  priest.  When  I  get  him 
alone  I  can  understand  his  lingo  better.  I  got 
out  of  him  some  information  about  the  de  Var- 
gas. He  acknowledges  that  they're  a  proud, 
ugly-tempered  kind  of  a  family,  and  the  young 
ones  in  it  are  as  upsetting  and  unmanageable 


MONSIEUR   LE   CUEE  ARRIVES.          159 

as  the  old  ones,  which  isn't  usual  among  French 
children.  The  grand-uncle  is  furious  with  this 
boy.  He'll  not  have  an  easy  time  in  France.* 
The  old  man  won't  have  the  boy  live  in  the 
chateau  because  he  has  the  name  of  being  un- 
manageable, and  he  would  talk  his  Bonapartism, 
which  isn't  fashionable  in  the  neighborhood. 
Bess,  what  is  the  difference  between  the  old 
noblesse  and  the  new  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  exactly.  We'll  have  to  read 
about  France,  Stephen." 

"  The  priest  says  that  the  de  Vargas  belong 
to  the  new.  He  says  if  the  boy  was  willing  it 
would  be  far  better  for  him  to  remain  in  this 
country,  for  he  will  be  sure  to  get  himself  into 
trouble  in  France ;  but  he  knows  he  won't  stay 
here,  so  he  is  planning  to  take  him  back  and 
keep  an  eye  on  him.  He  says  he'll  try  to 
squeeze  money  enough  out  of  the  grand-uncle 
to  send  him  away  to  school.  What  are  you 
smiling  about?  " 

"  Stephen,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  gently  but  de- 
cidedly, "  that  boy  belongs  to  us.  He  will  live 
and  die  in  this  country." 


160  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  Are  you  crazy,  Bess  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not.  They  may  take  him  away, 
but  he'll  come  back.  I  doubt  if  he  even  con- 
sents to  leave  this  city." 

The  sergeant  was  surprised.  "  You  are  a 
funny  little  woman,"  he  said  shortly.  "  What 
makes  you  say  that  ?  " 

"  Because  he  loves  us,"  she  said  triumph- 
antly. "  I  never  was  sure  of  it  till  this  even- 
ing. There's  no  one  that  he  likes  in  France. 
He  will  stay  where  his  heart  is,  or  if  he  goes 
away  he  will  come  back  to  us." 

"  Maybe  you're  right  and  maybe  you're 
wrong,"  said  the  sergeant  sagely.  "  Time  will 
tell ;  but  I  guess  he'll  go  to  France  and  get 
used  to  it." 


A  PROPOSAL   OF  MARRIAGE.  161 


CHAPTER   X. 

A   PROPOSAL   OF   MARRIAGE. 

THE  sergeant  was  intensely  amused  and  in- 
terested in  the  French  priest.  He  obtained  a 
few  days'  leave  from  his  duties,  and  occupied 
himself  in  showing  his  guest  the  sights  of  an 
American  city.  The  innocence,  the  childish- 
ness, and  the  curiosity  of  his  companion,  and, 
above  all,  the  attention  that  he  attracted,  pro- 
vided the  sergeant  with  the  most  agreeable 
sensation  that  he  had  had  for  many  a  day. 

Eugene  sometimes  accompanied  them,  oftener 
he  did  not.  He  was  no  longer  cheerful  and 
contented,  but  had  fallen  into  the  reserved, 
quiet,  almost  sullen  state  in  which  he  had  been 
when  Mrs.  Hardy  first  knew  him ;  and  instead 
of  mingling  freely  with  the  little  family,  he 
preferred  to  be  left  alone  in  his  room,  where 
he  sat  musing  by  the  hour. 

Occasionally  he  roused  himself  as  the  claims 


162  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

of  hospitality  asserted  themselves  in  his  mind, 
and  he  politely  endeavored  to  entertain  the 
priest  by  conversations  about  French  matters. 
To  these  conversations  the  sergeant  lent  a  most 
attentive  ear.  He  had  an  immense  curiosity  on 
the  subject  of  foreign  countries ;  and  the  pre- 
cocious remarks  of  Eugene  with  regard  to  the 
peasant  vote,  the  political  clubs,  and  the  rural 
life  of  the  nobility  in  France,  with  the  almost 
infantile  responses  of  the  cure  to  the  boy's 
questions  arid  unfathomable  prejudices,  formed 
subjects  on  which  he  would  remember  to  inform 
himself  after  they  were  gone. 

It  had  been  definitely  settled  that  Eugene 
and  the  priest  were  to  leave  Boston  at  the  end 
of  the  week,  and  sail  across  the  sea  to  France. 

Mrs.  Hardy  rarely  spoke  of  the  boy's  de- 
parture ;  but  when  she  did,  the  reference  was 
made  cheerfully,  and  as  if  she  expected  that 
he  would  really  go.  In  the  meantime,  when 
she  could  spare  a  few  hours  from  her  household 
duties,  she  busied  herself  with  making  prepa- 
rations for  his  journey  by  adding  to  his  rather 
scanty  wardrobe.  Eugene  went  shopping  with 


A   PROPOSAL   OF  MARRIAGE.  163 

her  while  the  sergeant  and  the  priest  were  en- 
gaged in  sight-seeing. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  preceding 
the  one  on  which  they  were  to  leave,  Eugene 
took  the  cure  aside,  and  requested  his  com- 
panionship while  he  made  a  call  of  importance. 

"  It  is  to  see  the  father  of  the  little  Virgie," 
he  said  to  Mrs.  Hardy  who  was  standing  near. 

%/  O 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  understand,"  she  said  ;  "  you 
wish  to  say  good-by  to  your  small  playmate." 

Eugene  did  not  wish  to  say  good-by  to  his 
small  playmate.  However,  he  did  not  ex- 
plain this  to  Mrs.  Hardy,  but  simply  gave 
her  an  inscrutable  look  from  his  deep  black 
eyes,  and  walked  out  of  the  room  with  the 
priest. 

It  was  a  dark,  chilly  afternoon,  and  the 
priest  shivered  slightly  inside  his  black  cas- 
sock as  they  wended  their  way  toward  the 
broad  and  fashionable  avenue  where  Virgie 's 
parents  lived.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  such 
piercing  winds  in  sunny  France ;  and  he  mur- 
mured softly  to  himself,  "  Le  climat  de  Loir- 
et-Cher  est  doux  et  tempered 


164  THE  KING    OF   THE  PARK. 

Mr.  Manning,  Virgie's  father,  quite  un- 
aware of  the  visitors  on  their  way  to  see  him, 
had  just  come  home  from  his  office,  and  sat 
in  his  wife's  room  talking  to  her,  and  wait- 
ing for  dinner  to  be  announced,  when  a  maid 
knocked  at  the  door,  and  said  that  a  priest 
and  a  boy  wanted  to  see  him.  He  glanced 
sharply  at  her,  and  asked,  "  What  are  their 
names  ?  " 

"  I  forget,  sir,"  she  said  hesitatingly.  "  They 
were  queer-sounding  and  foreign." 

"  I  cannot  see  them,"  said  Mr.  Manning, 
settling  himself  back  comfortably  in  his  chair. 
"  They  are  probably  begging." 

The  maid  went  down-stairs  to  a  small  re- 
ception-room, and  gave  the  strangers  Mr. 
Manning's  message. 

"  Return  to  your  master,  and  say  that  I 
request  an  interview  with  him  on  the  subject 
of  business,"  sai<J  Eugene  firmly. 

The  maid  felt  the  strange  power  that  the 
lad  exerted  on  all  those  who  came  in  contact 
with  him ;  and  throwing  him  a  glance  of 
veiled  admiration,  she  again  went  up-stairs. 


A   PROPOSAL   OF  MARIUAGE.  165 

"Tell  the  boy  that  I  talk  business  in  my 
office,"  said  Mr.  Manning  shortly.  uLet  him 
go  there  in  the  morning." 

Eugene  was  not  daunted  by  this  message. 
"Repeat  carefully  my  words,"  he  said  to  the 
amused  maid  ;  and  his  eyes  flamed  as  he 
looked  at  her.  "To-morrow  I  shall  be  on  my 
way  to  France.  I  have  now  a  last  chance 
to  see  the  gentleman  of  this  house.  If  he 
refuses,  he  may  regret  his  loss." 

The  maid  once  more  bent  her  footsteps 
toward  the  staircase,  and  on  the  way  met 
Bridget,  with  whom  she  had  a  whispered  col- 
loquy. 

"  It's  the  little  French  boy,  sir,  that  plays 
with  Miss  Virgie,"  she  said  on  returning  to 
Mr.  Manning. 

"Is  it?"  said  the  gentleman  with  a  laugh. 
"  He  is  going  to  get  on  in  the  world,  who- 
ever he  is  ;  "  and  he  hurried  down-stairs. 

The  priest  and  Eugene  rose  and  bowed  pro- 
foundly at  the  entrance  of  the  little,  short, 
sharp  business  man.  His  gray  eyes  took  in 
their  peculiarities  at  one  glance  ;  then,  some- 


166  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

what  flattered  by  their  obeisances,  he  re- 
sponded by  a  nod  of  his  head,  and  motioned 
them  to  be  seated. 

"  You  know  my  small  daughter  ?  "  he  asked, 
addressing  Eugene. 

"  Sir,  I  have  the  honor  of  romping  with 
her  at  times,"  said  the  boy  solemnly. 

"  Indeed  !  "  replied  Mr.  Manning  with  equal 
solemnity ;  then  with  a  quick,  brisk  movement 
of  his  hand  he  brushed  back  the  hair  from  his 
forehead,  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 

Eugene,  overcome  by  the  knowledge  of  the 
importance  of  his  mission,  neither  smiled  nor 
tried  to  make  himself  agreeable  in  any  way 
to  this  brusque  man,  but  waited  in  sober  pa- 
tience for  a  sufficient  time  to  elapse  before 
the  proper  moment  arrived  to  approach  the 
object  of  his  visit. 

"  It  is  a  raw  day,"  Mr.  Manning  said  at 
last,  addressing  the  priest. 

A  raw  day  was  something  quite  beyond 
the  curb's  ken ;  so  he  made  no  attempt  to  re- 
ply to  the  remark,  but  bowed  agreeably  and 
kept  silence. 


AM  COME,"   SAID   EUGEXE   AT    LAST,   "  TO   DEMAND  THE  HAND  OF 

YofR  DAUGHTER  ix  MARRIAGE." 


A   PROPOSAL    OF  MARRIAGE.  167 

"  I  hope  that  mademoiselle  your  daughter- 
is  well,"  said  Eugene  after  a  long  pause. 

"  She  is,  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Manning ; 
then  he,  too,  relapsed  into  silence. 

"  I  am  come,"  said  Eugene  at  last,  seeing 
that  tha  gentleman  was  politely  yet  stub- 
bornly resolved  not  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  him,  "  supported  by  my  friend  monsieur 
le  cure*  of  Chatillon-sur-Loir,  to  demand  the 
hand  of  mademoiselle  your  daughter  in  mar- 
riage." 

Mr.  Manning  was  a  man  who  had  attained 
to  great  self-possession  ;  but  at  Eugene's  as- 
tonishing request,  he  was  again  obliged  to 
stroke  his  hair  vigorously,  and  once  more  look 
out  of  the  window. 

Eugene  contemplated  him  meanwhile  in 
great  satisfaction.  This  composed  man  of  busi- 
ness would  make  an  excellent  father-in-law. 

"  May  I  ask,"  said  Mr.  Manning  at  length, 
abruptly  bringing  his  attention  once  more  to 
bear  upon  his  guest,  "  whether  this  is  for  im- 
mediate or  future  marriage  ?  " 

"  For  the  future,"  said  Eugene  quickly. 


168  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"How  old  are  you?"  asked  the  gentleman. 

"  I  am  thirteen,  but  I  will  be  fourteen  on 
my  next  birthday,"  replied  the  lad. 

"  Well,  now,  don't  you  think,"  said  Mr. 
Manning  in  an  almost  coaxing  tone  of  voice, 
"  that  you  are  rather  young  yet  to  consider 
so  important  a  question  as  the  choosing  of 
your  future  wife  ?  " 

"Exceedingly  young,"  said  Eugene  in  an 
equally  reasonable  voice.  "  I  am  taking  a 
part  that  is  quite  unusual,  yet  it  suits  me ;  for 
I  am  leaving  this  country,  perhaps  not  to  re- 
turn for  many  years,  therefore  I  beg  you  to 
grant  me  your  best  attention." 

Mr.  Manning  stared  at  the  cure,  whom  he 
was  almost  forgetting  in  his  interest  in  Eu- 
gene. What  kind  of  a  man  was  this  who, 
after  he  had  attained  to  years  of  maturity, 
suffered  a  child  to  go  about  making  himself 
ridiculous  ? 

The  cure,  blissfully  unconscious  of  this 
thought,  and  not  understanding  a  word  of 
what  he  said  or  of  what  Eugene  said,  sat  gaz- 
ing tranquilly  out  through  the  door  of  the 


A    PROPOSAL    OF  MARRIAGE.  169 

reception-room  at  the  magnificence  of  two  par- 
lors across  the  hall.  He,  a  poor  priest,  had 
never  been  in  so  handsome  a  house  in  his  life. 
The  stone  chateau  of  the  de  Vargas,  which 
was  large,  bare,  and  comfortless,  could  not  be 
compared  with  this  mansion.  As  a  young 
man,  he  had  gone  from  the  cottage  of  his 
peasant  father  and  mother  to  a  seminary,  and 
from  thence  to  Paris  for  a  few  months,  where 
he  lived  the  life  of  a  student.  He  had  seen 
the  exterior  of  fine  hotels  and  palaces,  but 
never  had  his  feet  trodden  such  velvety  car- 
pets, never  had  his  limbs  pressed  such  soft 
furniture,  never  had  he  been  received  as  a  vis- 
itor in  the  home  of  such  a  one  as  this  small 
amiable  gentleman,  who  was  probably  a  mer- 
chant prince  in  this  strange  new  country,  and 
who  talked  to  his  young  friend  with  brevity, 
and  yet  without  the  smallest  tincture  of 
haughtiness. 

The  cure  beamed  amiably  at  Mr.  Manning, 
and  not  a  suspicion  of  envy  found  lodgment 
in  his  gentle  breast.  He  was  delighted  to  see 
a  man  in  possession  of  so  much  luxury.  "I 


170  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

felicitate  you,  sir,"  he  murmured  when  Mr. 
Manning  briefly  asked  him  what  relation  he 
bore  to  Eugene. 

"  He  cannot  understand  you,  sir,"  interposed 
Eugene,  "  unless  you  speak  French  or  slow 
American." 

Mr.  Manning  made  a  gesture  that  signifi- 
cantly commended  the  cure  to  the  pleasant 
company  of  his  own  thoughts.  He  was  not 
the  man  to  talk  "slow  American  "  when  a  few 
quick  sentences  would  dispose  of  the  business 
in  hand. 

"So  you  wish  me  to  seriously  consider  your 
proposal,  little  boy,"  he  said,  again  confronting 
Eugene. 

"I  do,  sir." 

"  Well,  then,  give  me  your  reasons  for  break- 
ing through  the  custom  of  this  country,  which 
I  suppose  you  know  is  not  to  arrange  marriages 
until  the  contracting  parties  are  of  age." 

"When  they  usually  arrange  them  for  them- 
selves," continued  Eugene. 

Mr.  Manning  was  excessively  amused.  "  I 
see  you  know  all  about  it,"  he  said. 


A   PROPOSAL    OF  MARRIAGE.  171 

"This  is  my  excuse  for  breaking  through 
your  habits,"  said  Eugene  earnestly.  "I  am 
noble ;  you  are  not.  You  might  desire  to 
have  me  for  a  son-in-law  some  day  when  I 
am  no  longer  here,  for  I  go  to  France  to- 
morrow." 

"  Couldn't  I  write  you  a  letter?"  asked  Mr. 
Manning. 

"  By  the  time  of  a  few  years  I  might  form 
other  arrangements  ;  therefore,  while  I  am  here, 
where  there  are  so  few  nobles,  is  it  not  better 
to  secure  me  for  mademoiselle  your  daughter?  " 

"  Suppose  mademoiselle  my  daughter  didn't 
wish  to  marry  you  when  she  grew  up  ?  " 

"  Oh !  but  she  would,"  said  Eugene  in  great 
surprise.  "  Well-bred  ladies  are  always  ar- 
ranged for  in  marriage  in  France,  and  they 
enjoy  it.  It  would  not  be  necessary  to  inform 
her  until  the  time." 

"I  know  you  fix  these  things  in  a  different 
way  in  France,"  said  Mr.  Manning  with  ex- 
traordinary seriousness ;  "  but  upon  my  word, 
I  don't  like  to  be  the  first  to  start  the  custom 
here." 


172  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"  I  am  sure  there  would  be  110  regret  in  the 
case,"  said  Eugene  warmly.  "As  little  girls 
are  concerned,  Mademoiselle  Virgie  is  one  of 
the  healthiest  and  the  best-tempered.  A  suit- 
able dowry  being  attached  to  her,  she  will 
have  the  benefit  of  my  beau  nom,  as  one  says 
in  France.  And  will  she  not  rejoice  to  be 
madame  la  comtesse  ?  " 

"  She  will  be  too  sensible  a  girl  to  hang  her 
happiness  on  a  title,  I  hope,"  said  Mr.  Manning ; 
"and  though  you  seem  a  decent  enough  boy 
now,  you  may  grow  up  to  be  a  scamp." 

Eugene's  little  straight  back  grew  more  rigid 
than  before.  "  I  am  a  de  Vargas,"  he  said 
with  an  expression  of  proud  and  conscious 
superiority.  "There  are  no  scamps  in  our 
family." 

Mr.  Manning  twisted  his  lips  to  conceal  the 
inward  laughter  that  was  consuming  him. 
"  Granted  that  you  are  not  going  to  be  a 
scamp,  how  will  you  earn  your  bread?" 

"  By  my  sword." 

"  But  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  use  for 
swords  nowadays.  The  sentiment  of  to-day  is 


A   PROPOSAL    OF  MARRIAGE.  173 

against  war ;  and  I  would  rather  have  a  whole 
son-in-law,  not  one  that  somebody  is  going  to 
carve  to  pieces." 

"  But  the  army  must  be  maintained.  I  shall 
be  an  officer,  and  hold  myself  ready  for  war." 

"  Oh  !  I  see.  Well,  to  come  back  to  my  start- 
ing-point, I  don't, like  this  plan.  It's  too  one- 
sided, —  too  sure  for  you,  too  risky  for  my 
daughter." 

"  Are  not  American  girls  equal  to  French 
girls  who  do  this  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  daresay ;  but  I  prefer  an  American 
husband  for  my  child.  I  know  that  French 
people  look  out  for  money.  You  won't  let 
your  army  officers  marry  without  getting  a  cer- 
tain amount  with  a  wife,  I  have  heard ;  but 
somehow  or  other  the  thing  does  not  commend 
itself  to  me.  I  don't  believe  in  marrying  for 
money." 

"  But  we  do  not  do  that,"  exclaimed  Eugene. 
44  Oh  !  you  are  rashly  mistaken.  A  Frenchman 
does  not  marry  to  obtain  gold.  It  is  to  protect 
his  wife.  Some  money  is  necessary  to  be  as- 
sured to  her ;  it  is  rarely  enough  to  maintain 


174  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

a  carriage  and  a  table.  All  women  like  the 
arrangement  —  otherwise,  why  would  mothers 
marry  their  daughters  if  they  themselves  have 
been  unhappy  ?  " 

"I  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  said  Mr.  Manning 
with  prodigious  gravity.  "  As  I  have  told  you, 
I  don't  like  to  be  the  first  to  launch  this  new- 
fangled thing  in  America.  I  believe  I  would 
be  mobbed  if  I  started  to  go  down  town  among 
people  who  knew  I  had  promised  my  baby  girl 
in  marriage  to  a  strange  boy  that  I  had  only 
seen  once  in  my  life ;  but  you  go  round  and 
visit  some  of  the  other  business  men  of  this 
city,  and  if  you  can  get  them  to  give  their 
consent  to  let  this  custom  have  a  fair  trial  here, 
I  will  sign  a  paper  that  will  commit  my  daugh- 
ter to  an  engagement  to  you." 

Eugene's  face  fell.  "There  will  not  be 
time,"  he  said  in  a  pained  voice,  "  as  we  leave 
to-morrow.  I  hoped  that  a  writing  could  be 
made  out  to-day." 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  go  that  length,"  said 
Mr.  Manning  decidedly.  uYou  see  you  have 
sprung  this  thing  on  me.  You  will  be  coming 


A    PROPOSAL    OF  MARRIAGE.  175 

to  America  again  —  leave  it  till  then,  and  we'll 
talk  it  over.  Hello,  boy,  you're  not  going  to 
faint,  are  you  ?  " 

Every  vestige  of  color  had  left  Eugene's 
face.  He  was  not  able  to  analyze  his  own  feel- 
ings, but  deep  down  in  his  heart  there  was  a 
profound  and  blank  regret  that  he  was  to  leave 
America.  He  had  hoped  that  a  definite  agree- 
ment could  be  made  with  the  father  of  little 
Virgie,  which  would  give  an  excuse  for  a  return 
to  the  city  where  he  had  lately  experienced  the 
only  happy  days  of  his  life.  If  there  was  to 
be  no  agreement,  there  could  be  no  return. 

"No,  I  never  faint,"  he  said;  and  a  sudden 
reserve  came  over  him.  "  I  have  only  to  apolo- 
gize for  this  intrusion  and  leave  you.  Mon- 
sieur le  cure,  may  I  request  you  to  go  ?  " 

"  Sit  down,  boy,  sit  down,"  said  his  host 
kindly.  "  I  want  to  ask  you  some  questions 
about  yourself." 

Eugene  resumed  his  seat,  and  with  the  air 
of  a  complaisant  though  suffering  martyr  re- 
sponded to  the  questions  put  to  him. 

Something   about   his    coldly   courteous    an- 


176  THE  KISG    OF  THE  PA  UK. 

swers  excited  the  keenest  interest  in  his  inter- 
rogator. "  See  here,  my  lad,"  he  said  at  last, 
"  I  want  you  to  stay  to  dinner  this  evening  and 
meet  my  wife.  Don't  say  a  word  to  her  on  the 
subject  of  our  conversation.  I  wish  that  to  be 
a  secret  between  you  and  me ;  for  to  tell  the 
truth,  you  would  only  be  laughed  at  if  it  were 
to  get  out.  Will  you  stay  ?  and  you,  sir?  "  and 
he  addressed  the  cure. 

Eugene  at  first  recoiled  in  spirit  from  this 
proposal,  but  he  felt  himself  bound  to  convey 
the  invitation  to  the  cure ;  and  the  delight  of 
the  good  man  at  the  honor  was  so  extrava- 
gant and  unbounded  that  the  boy  gracefully 
yielded  and  consented  to  stay,  only  stipulat- 
ing that  a  message  be  sent  to  the  Hardys, 
who  were  expecting  them  to  return  to  par- 
take of  their  supper. 

44 1  will  send  my  man  up,"  said  Mr.  Man- 
ning. 44  Will  you  excuse  me  while  I  give 
him  the  message,  and  notify  my  wife  that  you 
are  here  ?  " 

Eugene  sat  stiffly  in  his  seat.  He  looked 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  and  he 


A   PROPOSAL    OF  MAURI  AGE.  177 

made  only  monosyllabic  replies  to  the  admir- 
ing sentences  rippling  from  the  mouth  of  the 
cure. 

When  Mr.  Manning  re-entered  the  room 
escorting  his  wife,  Eugene's  face  brightened 
somewhat.  With  a  grace  and  a  composure 
that  charmed  the  lady,  he  rose  and  stood 
aside,  while  monsieur  le  cure  almost  prostrated 
himself  before  her.  Then  he,  too,  made  an  in- 
flexion of  his  slender,  supple  body,  and  gazed 
from  under  his  black,  drooping  eyelashes  at 
the  pretty  mother  of  his  desired  fiancee. 

He  had  never  seen  her  before,  and  she  had 
never  seen  him.  "  Virgie  talks  a  great  deal 
about  you,"  she  said.  "Thank  you,  no,  I  will 
not  take  a  chair.  Dinner  is  just  about  to  be 
announced.  Why,  you  are  ever  so  much  older 
than  Virgie.  I  thought  you  were  quite  a 
young  boy." 

Mr.  Manning  laughed  quietly  to  himself. 
He  was  apparently  carrying  on  communica- 
tions with  the  cure  in  dumb  show,  but  in  real- 
ity he  was  listening  to  his  wife's  conversation 
with  Eugene. 


178  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAUK. 

"  I  do  not  feel  young/'  said  Eugene  so- 
berly, walking  beside  the  lady  out  to  the 
brilliant  splendor  of  the  dining-room ;  "  at 
times  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  lived  my 
whole  life." 

Mrs.  Manning  was  a  plump,  phlegmatic 
woman,  and  by  no  means  sensitive  ;  yet  at 
the  boy's  involuntary  expression  of  inward 
suffering  and  mental  experiences  beyond  his 
years,  a  sympathetic  thrill  passed  over  her, 
and  with  an  expression  of  pity,  she  showed 
him  his  place  at  the  table. 

Eugene  caught  this  expression,  and  in  deep 
irritation  lowered  his  eyes  to  his  plate.  "Why 
is  it,"  he  reflected  bitterly,  "  that  since  I 
came  among  these  Americans  I  catch  their 
candid  ways  —  I  reveal  everything  ?  I  even 
think  in  their  language.  I  will  begin  to  re- 
form at  once,  now  that  I  am  to  return  to  my 
own  country ; "  and  a  reform  he  immediately 
began  according  to  his  own  standard.  It  was 
easier  for  him  to  be  composed  and  reserved 
at  this  table  than  at  the  Hardys.  He  sat  up 
very  straight  in  his  chair,  and  in  an  adroit 


A   PROPOSAL   OF  MARRIAGE.  179 

and  delicate  manner  parried  Mrs.  Manning's 
rather  curious  questions  about  his  mode  of 
life  since  his  grandfather's  death. 

Rather  to  her  own  surprise,  as  their  conver- 
sation progressed,  Mrs.  Manning  found  that 
she  was  telling  the  boy  far  more  about  her- 
self than  he  was  telling  her  about  himself. 
For  one  thing,  she  confessed  to  him  her  long- 
ing to  go  to  Europe;  and  Eugene  said,  "It  is 
our  misfortune  that  you  have  not  yet  visited 
us.  May  we  not  look  forward  to  the  pleas- 
ure of  soon  seeing  you  in  France  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  go  to  Europe  next  summer  and 
take  Virgie,"  she  said. 

"  May  I  express  the  wish  that  you  will  honor 
Chatillon-sur-Loir  with  a  visit?" 

"  I  should  like  to  see  something  of  real 
French  life  ever  so  much,"  said  Mrs.  Manning; 
"  and  Virgie  would  be  delighted  to  look  you 
up." 

"  Then  we  shall  live  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
you,"  said  Eugene  sweetly,  and  with  a  side 
glance  at  the  cure*,  who,  in  blissful  uncon- 
sciousness of  the  fact  that  visitors  were  being 


180  THE  KING   OF  THE  PA  UK. 

invited  under  his  humble  roof,  was  taking  his 
soup  with  some  noise,  and  in  a  state  of  utter 
beatification. 

As  course  after  course  was  served,  Eugene, 
who  six  months  before  would  have  been  en- 
chanted by  the  display  of  riches  about  him, 
became  more  and  more  unhappy.  He  pre- 
served his  composure,  but  it  was  at  the  expense 
of  his  nerves.  Mrs.  Manning's  voice  often 
sounded  distant  and  hollow  in  his  ears ;  and 
once  or  twice  he  roused  himself  with  a  start,  to 
find  that  a  servant  stood  at  his  elbo\v  vainly 
striving  to  attract  his  attention. 

What  was  the  matter  with  him  ?  He  was 
surrounded  with  things  in  which  he  took  de- 
light; and  in  this  fine  house  with  these  rich 
people  he  should  feel  perfectly  at  home,  yet 
his  dull  and  inappreciative  eye  wandered  care- 
lessly over  the  costly  dinner-service  and  the 
display  of  exquisite  flowers.  The  servants 
moving  noiselessly  about  wearied  him;  and  the 
lights,  soft  as  they  were,  made  his  eyes  smart 
with  unshed  tears ;  while  Mrs.  Manning's  satin 
dress,  dainty  as  it  was,  had  less  beauty  in  his 


A   PliOPO&AL   OF  M AIUU AGE.  181 

sight  than  the  plain  white  cotton  gown  of  the 
sergeant's  wife. 

She  was  thinking  about  him  now,  that  kind 
woman  in  the  cottage  by  the  Fens.  Probably 
she  was  just  drawing  her  chair  up  to  the  fire 
in  the  cosey  parlor,  and  was  taking  from  her 
workbasket  one  of  the  fine  new  garments  that 
she  was  making  for  him. 

Perhaps  she  was  murmuring  softly  to  her 
husband,  "  How  I  miss  that  boy !  " 

"What  will  she  do  when  I  am  gone?"  thought 
Eugene  in  sudden  terror.  Something  seemed 
to  gripe  his  heart,  and  he  could  have  cried  out 
in  his  distress ;  yet  he  controlled  himself,  and 
replied  in  a  quiet,  clear  voice  to  a  question 
that  Mrs.  Manning  was  asking  him. 

"Yes,  madam,  I  will  thank  you  for  some 
preserved  ginger.  I  am  fond  of  it,  and  it  is 
some  time  since  I  have  eaten  of  it." 

The  cure  ate  long  and  with  an  admirable 
appetite,  and  shortly  after  dinner  showed  an 
amiable  inclination  to  retire  into  a  corner  of 
one  of  the  parlors  where  a  few  luxurious  arm- 
chairs stood  in  inviting  solitude. 


182  THE  KlfrG   OF  THE  PARK. 

"Suppose  I  were  to  try  one  of  these  fau- 
teuils,"  he  said  in  a  jocular  way  to  Eugena ; 
and  dropping  into  one,  he  buried  his  face  in  a 
newspaper  which  Mr.  Manning  handed  him, 
and  over  whose  pages,  which  were  almost 
wholly  unintelligible  to  him,  he  was  soon  doz- 
ing gently. 

Mr.  Manning  politely  ignored  his  presence  ; 
and,  being  chiefly  interested  in  Eugene,  he, 
quite  unintentionally,  kept  the  lad  on  the  rack 
for  some  time  by  asking  him  further  questions 
about  himself  and  his  plans  for  the  future. 

The  boy  could  not  evade  his  sharp  business- 
like inquiries  as  he  had  done  those  of  his 
wife.  He  endured  them  with  the  best  grace 
possible,  only  growing  a  little  white  in  the 
effort  to  control  himself.  As  soon  as  Mrs. 
Manning's  return  from  the  nursery,  where  she 
had  been  to  see  her  child,  gave  Eugene  an 
excuse  for  leaving,  he  rose  gracefully,  and 
looked  toward  the  cure. 

"  What,  going  already?"  said  Mr.  Manning. 
"  Mamma,  can't  this  boy  say  good-by  to  your 
little  daughter?  He  thinks  a  great  deal  of 


A   PROPOSAL    OF  MAEEIAGE.  183 

her;"  and  his  eyes  gleamed  mischievously  as 
they  rested  on  Eugene. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Manning.  "  As  a 
general  thing  I  don't  like  her  to  be  disturbed 
after  she  goes  to  bed,  but  we  will  make  an 
exception  in  favor  of  her  playfellow." 

"  Come  along,  then,"  said  Mr.  Manning ;  and 
he  ran  up-stairs  more  nimbly  than  Eugene, 
and  waited  for  him  at  the  top  of  the  staircase. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  said  briskly ;  and  he 
opened  the  door  of  a  dimly  lighted  room. 
"  Are  you  asleep,  pet  ?  " 

"  No,  papa,"  said  Virgie  sleepily ;  and  Eu- 
gene saw  her  pretty  head  rising  from  a  crib. 

"  Where  is  nurse  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Manning,  ad- 
vancing to  the  crib. 

"  Gone  down-stairs,  cross  old  thing,"  said 
Virgie.  "  Have  you  brought  your  little  girl 
a  present,  papa  ?  " 

"No,"  said  her  father  with  a  laugh.  "I 
have  brought  a  boy  that  wants  to  say  good-by 
to  you.  He  is  going  away.  Do  you  know 
who  it  is  ?  " 

"  ;  Course  I  do,"  said  Virgie,  who  was  clearly 


184  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

in  a  bad  temper;  "it's  that  cross  boy  Eugene. 
Is  lie  going  to  his  old  remperor  ?  " 

Eugene  felt  as  if  he  were  suffocating.  He 
had  always  fancied  that  he  did  not  like  this 
little  American  girl,  that  he  only  endured 
her;  and  he  had  considered  it  a  great  conde- 
scension on  his  part  that  he  should  include  her 
in  the  childish  stroke  of  diplomacy  by  which 
he  proposed  to  make  the  way  clear  for  a  re- 
turn to  America.  Now  he  saw  that  he  had 
been  mistaken.  He  loved  the  small  child 
next  to  Mrs.  Hardy  and  the  sergeant,  and  her 
indifference  cut  him  to  the  heart. 

"  Little  one,"  he  said  resentfully,  as  he 
stepped  nearer,  "  you  may  never  see  me  again." 

"  Then  Virgie  will  be  glad,"  said  the  child, 
pouting  out  her  lips  at  him ;  "  once  you 
sweeped  the  ground  with  me." 

Mr.  Manning  was  convulsed  with  amuse- 
ment at  the  calmly  vindictive  attitude  of  his 
youthful  daughter,  and  waited  attentively  for 
Eugene's  next  sentence. 

"  Shall  I  send  you  a  present  from  France  ?  " 
he  asked  at  last. 


A   PROPOSAL    OF  NAEEIAGE.  185 

"  No  ;  Virgie  hates  French  dolls." 

"  Across  the  sea,"  said  Eugene  mournfully, 
"  I  shall  soon  forget  you ;  for  I  shall  have 
boys  to  play  with  and  you  are  but  a  girl." 

"  When  you  go  'way,  Eugene,"  replied  Vir- 
gie in  a  cool  and  impassive  manner,  "I'll  frow 
all  the  stones  in  the  park  at  the  remperor." 

This  shaft  did  not  excite  his  anger  as  she 
thought  it  would ;  so  she  continued,  cautiously 
feeling  her  way,  for  she  was  afraid  of  him 
when  he  lost  his  temper.  "  An'  maybe  I'll  kill 
the  king,  an'  the  other  pussies,  an'  the  mister 
policeman,  an'  maybe  I'll  come  an'  kill  you." 

Her  sweet  and  silly  defiance  did  not  pro- 
voke the  boy,  and  she  lashed  her  childish 
imagination  for  another  taunt.  "  If  Virgie 
had  a  gun,"  she  murmured,  "  a  big,  big  gun,  I 
guess  she'd  shoot  you  now." 

Eugene  smiled  sadly,  and  yet  his  eyes  were 
full  of  tears.  Was  he  going  to  cry  before  this 
child  and  the  man  who  was  silently  regarding 
him  ?  The  thought  filled  him  with  dismay ; 
and  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  abruptly  went 
toward  the  door. 


186  THE  KING   OF  THE  PA  UK. 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  squealed  Virgie  dismally,  "  the 
pretty  buttons !  come  back,  I  want  to  see 
them  !  " 

Her  volatile,  childish  fancy  had  been  taken 
with  the  glitter  of  some  new  buttons  on 
Eugene's  coat;  and  hastily  wiping  his  eyes,  he 
returned  to  her,  and  before  Mr.  Manning  could 
prevent  him,  he  had  gallantly  twisted  a  but- 
ton from  its  place,  and  put  it  in  the  child's 
hand. 

"  Thank  you,  Eugene,  just  dreffully,"  she 
said  in  delight;  and  she  sprang  up  in  her  crib, 
clasping  her  new  treasure  firmly  in  one  hand, 
while  she  extended  the  other  toward  him. 
"  Good-by,  Virgie  won't  hurt  the  remperor ; 
here's  a  present  for  you ; "  and  she  caught  up 
a  legless,  armless  doll  lying  on  her  dainty 
pillow. 

Eugene  went  to  her,  and  she  stuffed  it  in 
his  pocket.  Then  she  yawned  sleepily,  put  her 
pink  lips  to  his  ear,  and  murmured,  "Good-by, 
Eugene,  be  a  good  girl ; "  and  dropping  down 
on  her  pillow  was  asleep  before  they  had 
fairly  left  the  room. 


A   PROPOSAL   OF  MAREIAGE.  187 

Ten  minutes  later  Eugene  and  the  priest 
were  walking  quietly  up  the  avenue  in  the 
direction  of  the  Hardys'  house,  and  Mr.  Man- 
ning and  his  wife  sat  talking  together  with 
amused  faces. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  that  boy  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  don't  make  much  of  him,"  she  replied. 
"  He  seems  a  polite  little  cynic." 

"  He  is  more  than  that,"  said  Mr.  Manning 
sagely.  "  If  he  were  going  to  stay  in  this 
country,  I  would  do  something  for  him." 


188  THE  KING    OF   THE  PARK. 


CHAPTER   XL 

THAT   WOMAN. 

MRS.  HARDY  was  afraid  that  Eugene  was 
going  to  be  ill.  Several  times  while  giving 
her  an  account  of  his  visit  to  the  Mannings 
he  relapsed  into  long,  troubled  silences. 

As  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  recital  she 
sent  him  to  bed,  and  shortly  afterwards  she 
came  and  stood  over  him  with  a  medicine  bottle 
in  her  hand. 

He  asked  no  questions ;  and  after  quickly 
taking  what  she  gave  him,  he  kissed  her  hand, 
and  closing  his  eyes,  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep. 

In  the  morning  he  seemed  more  cheerful,  but 
he  still  acted  like  a  boy  in  a  dream;  and  the 
sergeant  muttered,  "  That  lad  doesn't  hear  more 
than  half  of  what  is  said  to  him.  He's  in  a 
dead  worry  about  this  business  of  going  away. 
Now  I  must  have  a  few  last  words  with  the 
priest.  Come  out  into  the  garden,  mussoo,  it's 


THAT    WOMAN.  189 

a  fine  morning;"  and  he  took  his  guest  out- 
of-doors. 

"  Now,  look  here,  sir,"  he  said  firmly,  and  he 
seized  a  button  on  the  priest's  cassock,  "  this 
is  your  last  day  in  Boston ;  and  I  want  to  tell 
you  before  you  take  that  boy  to  France,  that 
you're  to  consider  yourself  as  free  as  air  to  send 
him  back  at  any  time  it  suits  you  and  him,  for 
I  guess  his  grand-uncle  isn't  going  to  interfere 
much  with  him." 

The  cure  hardly  understood  a  word  of  what 
the  sergeant  said,  and  the  worthy  man  did  not 
expect  that  he  would.  The  sergeant  had  for- 
mulated a  system  about  conversing  with  the 
cure.  The  first  time  he  uttered  sentences  he 
rattled  them  off  in  any  way  just  to  accustom 
the  foreigner  to  the  sound  of  the  words.  The 
next  time  he  repeated  them  slowly,  the  third 
time  more  slowly,  and  with  a  liberal  illustra- 
tion of  gestures  in  order  to  make  his  meaning 
entirely  plain. 

Therefore,  when  the  cure  had  heard  a  trio  of 
these  sentences,  accompanied  by  a  far-away 
fling  of  his  host's  hand  to  denote  France,  a 


190  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

nearer  one  for  Boston,  and  a  comprehensive 
sweep  through  the  air  to  indicate  freedom  of 
action,  he  understood  perfectly,  and  nodded  his 
acquiescence  and  approval  of  the  plan. 

"  But  I  think  he  weel  not  return,"  he  said. 

"You  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  said 
the  sergeant.  "He  is  a  queer  lad;  and  like 
most  young  fellows,  and  some  old  ones,  he  does 
what  you  don't  think  he  will  do,  and  what  you 
think  he  will  do,  he  won't." 

"  Pardon,"  said  the  cure. 

"  I  can't  make  you  see  that,"  said  the  sergeant 
decidedly,  "  because  there  isn't  any  scope  for 
gestures,  so  we'll  let  it  pass.  Now,  I  want  to 
tell  you  that  I  have  a  nest-egg,  and  my  wife 
has  expectations,  or  rather  a  surety  from  a  rich 
aunt,  so  the  boy  wouldn't  suffer  if  he  came 
back.  We  could  educate  him  like  a  gentle- 
man." 

"  Eggs,"  exclaimed  the  cure  in  delight  as  a 
familiar  word  broke  upon  his  ear  in  the  first 
utterance  of  a  sentence.  "  Hens  lay  eggs." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  hens  and  eggs  go 
together;  but  good  gracious,  }^ou've  got  me  off 


THAT    WOMAN.  191 

the  track,  and  if  I  go  to  explain  my  meaning 
to  you,  you'll  get  all  tangled  up  in  a  chicken- 
coop.  Forget  it,  mussoo." 

"  Forget  eggs ;  no,  I  remembare,"  said  the 
cure*  reproachfully. 

"I  guess  I'll  have  to  dispose  of  that,"  said 
the  sergeant  desperately.  "  What  did  I  want 
to  use  the  old  expression  for  ?  Hens  are  useful 
creatures  ;  "  and  to  expedite  matters  he  began  to 
flap  his  arms  and  cluck,  and  then  brought  his 
hands  near  the  ground  to  measure  off  the  di- 
mensions of  a  hen  of  respectable  appearance. 

"Eggs  are  good  for  eating,"  said  the  cure* 
amiably. 

" Yes,  fine,"  said  the  sergeant;  and  he  drew 
a  handful  of  silver  from  his  pocket.  "  Do 
you  see  that  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes." 

"Money — good  stuff  to  have  —  well,  I've 
a  lot  of  it  —  heaps ; "  and  he  began  to  build 
an  airy  pyramid  on  the  ground.  "  Savings, 
you  know,  and  a  little  I  had  left  me  by  my 
parents  —  enough  to  educate  a  boy." 

"  Yes,    I    comprehend,"    said    the    cure,    de- 


192  THE  KING    OF  THE  PAEK. 

lighted  beyond  measure  at  his  own  keenness  ; 
"  you  sell  eggs,  you  make  money.  One  does 
it  in  France.  One  sells  all  things." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  sergeant  philosophi- 
cally. "  Have  me  sell  eggs  or  anything  you 
like,  the  money  is  there,  anyway,  and  the  boy 
is  welcome  to  it.  Hello,  here  he  is.  Come 
here,  lad,  and  dash  this  off  to  your  protector. 
You  are  now  in  America,  you  start  for  France 
in  a  few  hours ;  you  may  stay  there  six  weeks, 
or  six  months,  or  six  years,  or  all  your  life  ; 
but  unless  you  hear  from  us  that  we  have 
forgotten  you  or  changed  our  minds,  you're 
at  liberty  to  come  here  and  live  with  us  at 
any  time.  Do  you  understand  that  ?  " 
"I  do,"  said  Eugene;  uand  I  thank  you." 
While  he  was  talking  to  the  cure,  the  ser- 
geant sighed  heavily,  and  went  sauntering 
down  the  walk  to  the  gate,  and  out  through 
it  to  the  park.  He  was  not  as  sanguine  as 
his  wife  about  Eugene's  reluctance  to  leave 
them,  and  he  could  not  bear  to  remain  at 
home  on  this  the  last  day  of  his  stay  with 
them. 


THAT   WOMAN.  193 

When  he  returned  for  dinner  in  the  middle 
of  the  day  he  exerted  himself  to  be  cheerful ; 
but  he  disappeared  immediately  afterward,  and 
did  not  come  back  until  late  in  the  afternoon, 
in  time  to  take  Eugene  and  the  priest  to  the 
train. 

All  day  long  Eugene  had  followed  Mrs. 
Hardy  about  the  house,  waiting  on  her  in  a 
quiet  and  unobtrusive  way,  but  saying  very 
little.  He  did  not  understand  her ;  but  she 
understood  him  perfectly,  and  she  saw  that 
as  yet  there  was  no  flagging  in  his  resolve  to 
go  to  France. 

He  wondered  that  this  woman,  who  pro- 
fessed to  love  him  so  much  and  who  cried  so 
easily,  had  not  yet,  as  far  as  he  had  known, 
shed  a  tear  over  his  departure.  She  did  not 
even  break  down  when  they  reached  the  sta- 
tion, and  saw  before  them  the  long  line  of 
cars  on  which  he  was  to  be  whirled  away 
from  her. 

Eugene  shuddered  at  the  sight,  and  clung 
convulsively  to  her  hand.  "  Do  you  feel  that 
you  ought  not  to  go  ?  "  she  asked  quietly. 


194  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

"No,  no,"  said  the  boy  in  a  tortured  voice. 
"  I  only  feel  it  horrible  to  go ;  yet  it  is  for 
the  best,  and  it  is  duty.  I  shall  come  back 
some  day." 

"  Wife,"  said  the  sergeant  inexorably,  "  it 
is  time  for  them  to  get  on  board  the  train. 
Good-by,  son." 

"  Good-by,"  said  Eugene,  shaking  hands  with 
him;  "you  have  been  good  to  me.  I  thank 
you  "  —  and  here  his  voice  failed  him,  and  he 
groped  blindly  for  Mrs.  Hardy. 

When  he  felt  her  arms  around  him,  he 
whispered  three  words  in  her  ear — the  words 
she  had  longed  to  hear,  and  that  he  had  never 
given  her  until  now. 

"  I  love  you,"  he  breathed  with  his  eager 
lips  against  her  cheek ;  and  then  he  added 
with  a  heartbroken  sigh,  "  if  I  were  not  a 
beggar  I  should  have  stayed  with  you  ;  but 
I  am  proud "  —  here  he  broke  off,  and  with- 
out looking  at  her  again,  rushed  into  the 
car  and  took  his  seat. 

The  cure  followed  him  slowly  and  cau- 
tiously, put  in  one  of  his  capacious  pockets  the 


THAT   WOMAN.  195 

checks  and  tickets  that  the  sergeant  handed 
to  him  ;  then  the  conductor  shouted,  the  crowd 
of  people  stepped  back,  and  the  train  moved 
off. 

Eugene  remained  motionless  and  silent  in 
his  corner  of  the  seat.  He  did  not  speak  un- 
til they  reached  the  Fall  River  station,  and 
there  he  contented  himself  with  monosyllabic 
replies  to  the  cure's  remarks. 

Upon  arriving  on  the  steamer  the  cure* 
sauntered  wonderingly  about,  taking  in  the 
details  of  the  life  on  board  this  floating  pal- 
ace. He  would  want  to  describe  it  accurately 
upon  reaching  home,  for  he  knew  that  the 
peasants  of  Ch&tillon-sur-Loir  were  capable  of 
taking  in  accounts  of  greater  wonders  than 
these. 

Eugene  had  gone  immediately  to  bed.  After 
an  hour  or  two  the  cure  followed  him.  Be- 
fore turning  into  his  berth  for  the  night,  he 
looked  at  the  one  above  him.  The  boy  lay 
with  his  arm  over  his  face.  Probably  he  had 
been  asleep  for  some  time. 

Being   tired,    and   having  a   mind   at   peace 


196  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

with  himself  and  the  world,  the  priest  slept 
soundly  and  happily  until  shortly  after  day- 
break. Then  he  got  up ;  and  after  gazing 
through  his  small  window  at  the  red  ball  of 
the  sun,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  upper  berth 
where  he  supposed  Eugene  was  still  sleeping. 

To  his  surprise  and  distress  the  lad  was 
crouched  in  a  corner,  his  limbs  convulsed,  his 
face  rigid,  and  his  hands  tightly  clasped  in 
the  bedclothes. 

"  How  now,  little  one  —  art  thou  having  a 
fit  ? "  exclaimed  the  priest  in  his  own  lan- 
guage. u  Let  me  dash  some  water  in  thy 
face.  Oh,  this  is  pitiful !  " 

Eugene  stretched  out  his  hand  in  a  forbid- 
ding way,  but  did  not  reply  to  him. 

"Thou  art  having  a  spasm,"  said  the  priest. 
"  I  am  sure  of  it.  Let  me  seek  a  doctor. 
Oh  !  what  is  the  matter  with  thee  ?  " 

"  It  is  that  woman,"  gasped  Eugene.  "  Oh  ! 
I  cannot  endure  it." 

"  A  woman  !  "  repeated  the  priest,  inspecting 
the  narrow  dimensions  of  their  room  in  great 
amazement ;  "  there  is  no  woman  here." 


THAT   WOMAN.  197 

"  It  is  that  woman  yonder,  monsieur  le 
cure,"  said  Eugene  respectfully,  and  yet  with 
restrained  anger ;  "  there  is  but  one  woman 
that  I  consider  —  the  one  who  has  been  so 
peerless  for  me.  Oh !  I  wish  to  see  her.  I 
wish  to  see  her ; "  and  he  flung  himself  about 
his  berth  in  a  paroxysm  of  regret  and  passion. 

"  Poor  little  one,"  said  the  priest,  "  hast  thou 
been  suffering  all  through  the  long  night  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  slept,"  said  Eugene  miserably. 
u  I  have  sat  up  and  thought  of  many  things. 
I  wish  to  go  back.  I  cannot  endure  this." 

"  I  will  be  a  mother  to  thee,"  said  the 
priest  soothingly ;  "  and  thou  canst  write  to 
that  good  woman." 

"She  will  not  care  for  letters,"  exclaimed 
Eugene.  "  She  wishes  me,  and  I  wish  her. 
When  I  lie  down  at  night  she  wishes  me  happy 
dreams.  I  did  not  know  that  I  cared  for  it 
until  last  night  when  she  was  not  here.  I 
must  go  back  to  her.  I  shall  go  back  ;  "  and 
he  surveyed  his  companion  in  open  defiance. 

The  priest  was  puzzled.  "Dost  thou  desire 
to  remain  always  in  this  country?"  he  said. 


198  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

"Yes,"  Eugene  returned  with  sudden  cool- 
ness. "  If  that  woman  should  die,  possibly  I 
might  return  to  France.  While  she  lives  I 
will  stay  with  her." 

u  Thou  art  an  obstinate  child,"  muttered  the 
cure  to  himself,  "and  I  believe  thee.  Neither 
the  church  nor  the  world  restrains  the  de 
Vargas.  They  are  unruly,  like  the  wild  boars." 
Then  he  said  aloud,  —  "  What  dost  thou  pro- 
pose to  do?" 

"To  return  now,"  cried  Eugene,  flinging  up 
his  head,  "now,  monsieur  le  cure.  With  your 
permission  I  will  go  back  —  I  will  say  to  her 
I  am  sorry  for  the  disturbances  I  have  made 
you.  In  future  I  shall  try  to  be  more  peace- 
ful." 

"My  life  will  be  less  lively  without  thee," 
observed  the  cure  thoughtfully ;  "  and  were  I 
alone  concerned  thou  wouldst  freely  have  my 
consent  to  remain,  but  thy  grand-uncle  " 

"  Tell  him,"  said  Eugene  with  bent  brows 
and  flashing  eyes,  "tell  him  that  he  has  no 
authority  over  me.  That  I  refuse  the  meagre 
sum  that  he  would  dole  out  to  me.  In  this 


THAT    WOMAN.  199 

country  I  will  learn  how  to  support  myself ; 
yet  also  tell  him  that  since  I  love  that  woman 
I  hate  him  less." 

"  Thou  art  a  fiery  lad,"  murmured  the  cure 
with  resignation.  "  If  thy  grand-uncle  were 
a  de  Vargas  I  would  need  to  soften  that  mes- 
sage." 

"  Have  I  your  permission  to  return  ?  "  asked 
Eugene  urgently. 

"  Thou  hast.  Of  what  use  would  it  be  to 
withhold  it?"  said  the  cure  frankly. 

44  Of  no  use,"  replied  the  boy  with  a  relieved 
gesture  ;  "  for  this  morning  I  find  myself  capa- 
ble of  running  away.  As  soon  as  we  arrive 
in  New  York  I  will  leave  you ;  "  and  a  bright 
smile  stole  over  his  face. 

The  cure  seized  his  black  hat,  and  went  for 
a  stroll  on  the  deck,  where  he  was  a  few 
minutes  later  joined  by  a  new  Eugene,  —  a 
happy,  contented  boy,  who  seized  his  hand,  and 
begged  forgiveness  for  the  determined  manner 
in  which  he  had  just  addressed  him. 

"Droll  little  lad,"  said  the  priest,  "I  won- 
der what  thy  life  will  be  ?  I  say  to  thee  as 


200  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

that  good  man  said  yesterday,  thou  hast  a 
friend  in  me  away  in  France.  My  cottage 
door  will  always  be  open  to  thee." 

Eugene  pressed  one  of  the  cure's  hands  in 
both  of  his,  while  tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  Then 
they  went  below  to  have  breakfast ;  and  while 
the  boy  was  eating  and  drinking  in  a  dainty, 
half-famished  way,  the  cure  cast  frequent  and 
curious  glances  at  him.  A  transformation  had 
certainly  been  effected  in  the  lad.  He  was  no 
longer  buried  in  unhappy  reserve.  His  face 
was  glowing;  and  he  looked  often  and  fear- 
lessly at  his  companion,  and  smiled,  as  if  some 
of  the  affection  that  he  felt  for  his  adopted 
mother  was  shed  upon  every  one  that  had 
come  within  the  circle  of  her  influence. 

When  they  steamed  into  New  York  Harbor, 
the  cure  gazed  about  him  in  wonder  and  ad- 
miration. Eugene,  plunged  in  a  delicious 
revery,  took  no  notice  of  the  lofty  buildings, 
the  crowded  wharves,  and  the  maze  of  ship- 
ping, but  stood  close  to  the  cure,  and  stared 
directly  in  front  of  him  in  intense  abstraction 
of  mind. 


THE  CUKE  SLOWLY  ruoNorxcED  A  BLESSING. 


THAT    WOMAN.  201 

After  they  landed,  they  had  several  nours  of 
tiresome  quest,  —  first  in  search  of  the  steamer 
that  was  to  take  the  curd  to  Havre,  then  to  find 
a  railway  station  from  which  Eugene  could 
be  sent  back  to  Boston.  The  dreamy  boy  and 
the  foreign  man  were  directed  and  informed, 
and  redirected  and  reinformed  ;  and  some  hours 
elapsed  before  the  cure*  had  deposited  his  bag 
on  the  steamer,  and  had  finally  and  repeatedly 
been  assured  that  the  trains  from  the  station  in 
which  he  was  then  standing  certainly  did  run 
to  Boston,  and  certainly  would  carry  the  boy 
there  as  speedily  as  steam  could  take  him. 

"  Go  in,  little  one  —  into  the  carriage  and 
take  thy  seat,"  said  the  cure  in  an  agony  of 
excitement.  "Oh!  never  did  I  see  such  a  place 
as  this  city.  My  head  spins ;  it  is  worse  than 
Paris  !  " 

"  I  will  go  in,"  said  Eugene ;  "  but  first  your 
blessing,  monsieur  le  cure ;  for  I  no  longer 
hate  the  priesthood,  and  say  if  you  will  that 
you  do  not  blame  me." 

The  curd  suddenly  became  calm.  An  an- 
gelic smile  overspread  his  face ;  and  as  Eugene 


202  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

drew  his  cap  from  his  head,  the  man  laid  his 
hands  on  his  smooth  dark  hair,  and  slowly 
pronounced  a  blessing. 

" Au  nom  de  Dieu"  Eugene  murmured  after 
him ;  then  he  flung  himself  in  the  cure's  arms, 
and  embraced  him  heartily. 

uWe  shall  meet  again,  little  one,"  said  the 
cure,  "  we  shall  meet  again ;  "  and  the  last  object 
that  the  boy's  eyes  rested  on  as  his  train  pulled 
slowly  out  of  the  station  was  the  tall  black 
figure  of  the  priest  standing  a  little  back  from 
the  crowd,  his  black  hat  in  his  hand,  his  finger 
pointing  solemnly  upward  from  the  noise  and 
babel  of  the  city. 

Eugene  sat  very  quiet  and  still  in  his  seat. 
His  heart  was  sore  at  the  parting  from  the  cure, 
which  was  like  the  snapping  of  the  last  link 
that  bound  him  to  his  native  land ;  and  yet 
it  was  singing  like  a  bird  at  the  prospect  of 
his  speedy  reunion  with  his  foster-parents.  He 
closed  his  happy  eyes ;  and  in  a  very  few 
minutes  he  had  fallen  sound  asleep,  with  a 
smile  on  his  face  that  made  every  passer-by 
look  at  him  in  amusement. 


THAT   WOMAN.  208 

The  cure  knew  that  Eugene,  who  had  at 
different  times  in  his  life  spent  many  months 
in  Paris,  would  be  quite  able  to  look  out  for 
himself  on  reaching  the  city  that  had  been  his 
home  for  so  many  months.  He  would  have 
been  more  convinced  of  this  had  he  seen  the 
adroit  way  in  which  the  boy  slipped  between 
the  throng  of  people  when  he  reached  Boston. 
He  took  a  short  cut  to  the  street  corner  where 
he  would  find  a  car,  arid  in  a  very  short  time 
his  eye  singled  out  the  desired  one  from  a  num- 
ber that  were  approaching.  He  sprang  on  it, 
and  was  borne  swiftly  away  from  the  streets 
toward  the  large  park  which  had  become  the 
dearest  spot  on  earth  to  him. 

Soon  he  saw  against  the  western  sky  the 
tall  straight  poplars  of  the  Boylston-street  en- 
trance ;  and  springing  from  the  car  as  it  stopped 
on  a  corner,  he  ran,  for  he  was  too  much  agi- 
tated to  walk,  in  the  direction  of  the  cottage. 

"  Ah,  that  woman,  that  woman,"  he  kept  re- 
peating to  himself ;  "  but  she  will  be  glad  to 


see  me." 


Though    it   was    quite  dark,  there  were    no 
lights  in  the  windows. 


204  THE  KING    OF   THE  PARK. 

"  She  is  absent,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  will  not 
grieve,  for  she  will  return." 

He  hurried  up  the  garden-path,  and  tried  to 
turn  the  handle  of  the  front  door.  "Ah,  it  is 
locked  —  the  back  one  also,  I  suppose  ;  "  and 
he  trotted  cheerfully  to  the  rear  of  the  house. 

"  They  are  away,"  he  said,  when  he  found 
he  could  not  gain  entrance  there ;  "  and  some 
boys  would  be  afraid.  T  shall  not  be  ;  "  and  he 
lifted  his  face  up  proudly  to  the  overcast  sky, 
"not  even  if  they  stay  all  night.  I  will  look 
into  my  charming  room  ; "  and  he  shaded  his 
eyes  with  his  hands,  and  peered  into  one  of 
the  back  rooms  on  the  ground  floor.  Then 
he  tried  to  raise  the  window  with  his  hand. 
"Why,  it  is  open,"  he  said  delightedly;  "I 
can  get  in.  Why  did  that  woman  leave  open 
this  window  ?  " 

Eugene  crawled  in,  and  walked  through  the 
house  seeking  matches,  and  lighting  the  gas 
everywhere  he  went  to  make  the  rooms  cheer- 
ful for  the  return  of  the  sergeant  and  his 
wife.  However,  they  did  not  appear,  though 
seven  o'clock  came,  then  eight,  and  finally 


THAT   WOMAN.  205 

nine.  Only  the  two  eats  came  home,  spring- 
ing in  through  the  open  window,  and  greeting 
him  with  demure  expressions  of  pleasure. 

The  boy  fed  and  caressed  them ;  and  then, 
followed  by  the  pair  who  were  in  a  state  of 
silent  satisfaction,  he  sat  down  by  his  window, 
and  resting  his  elbows  on  the  window-sill, 
looked  out  across  the  garden  into  the  street. 
It  was  very  quiet.  The  Hardys  had  no  near 
neighbors,  and  only  at  rare  intervals  did  any- 
one pass,  yet  Eugene  was  not  afraid. 

44 1  am  happy  —  happy,"  he  murmured,  press- 
ing his  face  against  the  tortoiseshell  fur  of  one 
of  the  cats.  4t  I  cannot  be  lonely  unless  she 
stays  a  long,  long  time.  Probably  they  are  to 
remain  all  night.  It  must  be  a  visit  to  the 
aunt.  Come  in,  pussy.  I  must  close  the  win- 
dow, for  it  is  cold." 

The  cat,  however,  did  not  wish  him  to  close 
it.  With  symptoms  of  great  excitement  she 
rubbed  herself  back  and  forth  against  his 
arms,  and  acted  as  if  she  were  trying  to  at- 
tract his  attention  to  the  other  cat,  who  had 
sprung  boldly  out  on  one  of  the  flower-beds. 


206  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

Eugene  placed  one  hand  on  the  window- 
sill,  and  jumped  out  after  her.  "  What  is  the 
matter,  Dodo  ?  "  he  said. 

The  night  was  very  dark,  and  it  had  begun 
to  rain.  The  electric  light,  however,  shone 
on  this  part  of  the  garden,  and  he  could  see  a 
small  dark  creature  moving  slowly  along  the 
fence. 

"That  must  be  one  of  the  park  cats,"  said 
Eugene  —  "  not  the  king,  for  there  is  no  white 
on  it.  Why,  it  is  his  chum.  What  are  you 
doing  here,  Squirrel,  and  why  do  you  move  so 
slowly  ?  " 

With  a  sharp  almost  human  cry  of  pain,  the 
little  dark  animal  dropped  from  the  fence  to 
the  ground. 

"  What  is  wrong  with  you  ?  "  said  Eugene 
as  he  walked  along  beside  him. 

The  cat  paused  an  instant  to  give  him  a 
look  of  recognition,  then,  with  a  piteous  mew, 
continued  his  journey  to  the  house.  On  reach- 
ing Eugene's  window  the  animal  lifted  his 
head  beseechingly. 

"Thou  wishest  to  go   in,    small    park    cat," 


THAT   WOMAN.  207 

said  Eugene,  dropping  into  French ;  "  well, 
spring  for  it.  I  permit  thee,  though  it  is  late 
for  a  call." 

The  cat  gathered  his  limbs  together,  and, 
with  something  between  a  mew  of  gratitude 
and  a  wail  of  pain,  managed  to  attain  to  the 
window-ledge. 

"  Why,  thou  art  bleeding,"  said  Eugene  in 
dismay,  as  he  noticed  red  drops  on  the  light 
wood.  "  Unfortunate  animal,  have  the  dogs 
been  at  thee?"  and  he  hurried  in  after  the 
cat,  and  bent  over  him  as  he  lay  on  the  floor 
exhausted  by  his  journey  to  the  house. 

The  cat  did  not  resent  the  touch  of  his 
gentle  fingers ;  and  Eugene  soon  discovered 
the  extent  of  his  injuries,  and  made  a  bandage 
to  hold  together  the  torn  skin.  Immediately, 
however,  on  being  released,  Squirrel  signified 
his  wish  to  leave  the  room.  Eugene  opened 
the  door,  and  followed  him  out  through  the 
hall  to  Mrs.  Hardy's  room. 

"  Is  not  this  devotion !  "  exclaimed  the  boy, 
throwing  out  his  hands  with  a  gesture  of  ad- 
miration. "Sick  and  wounded,  and  appar- 


208  THE  KING   OF  THE  PAEK. 

ently  about  to  die,  the  faithful  creature  would 
be  in  the  home  of  his  mistress.  Poor  pussy, 
I  compassionate  thee ;  "  and  slipping  off  his 
jacket  the  boy  laid  it  on  the  bed,  and  lifted 
the  cat  on  it. 

"  Thy  mistress  is  away.  I  do  not  know 
when  she  will  return,"  he  said,  leaning  over 
the  suffering  creature,  and  speaking  in  ex- 
quisitely soft  and  sympathetic  tones ;  "  but  if 
she  were  here  she  would  stroke  thy  mangled 
fur,  and  say  kindly,  4  Courage,  little  cat,  thy 
sufferings  will  soon  be  over ; '  and  for  her  sake 
I  put  my  hand  on  thy  head,  and  I  will  sit  by 
thee  till  thou  art  no  more.  Perhaps,  though, 
thou  wouldst  like  some  milk ; "  and  he  ran 
quickly  to  the  kitchen,  and  brought  back  some 
cream  in  a  saucer. 

The  dying  cat  refused  to  take  it ;  so  the 
boy  smeared  some  on  his  lips,  and  then  con- 
tinued his  compassionate  sentences.  Occasion- 
ally, in  response  to  his  remarks  to  the  effect 
that  death  overtakes  all,  that  there  is  but  one 
lot  for  king,  pauper,  or  dumb  beast,  the  animal 
would  return  a  plaintive  mew.  At  last  the 


THAT    \VOMAN.  209 

unfortunate  Squirrel's  sufferings  were  over. 
He  gave  one  gasp,  like  a  dying  child,  then 
lay  quite  still. 

44 1  cannot  cry,  little  cat,"  said  Eugene 
softly,  wrapping  the  coat  around  him,  and 
tiptoeing  his  way  back  to  his  room  ;  4t  but  I, 
nevertheless,  grieve  for  thee.  Now  what  is 
to  be  done?  That  dear  woman  evidently  does 
not  return  to-night ; "  and  he  shivered,  and 
glanced  over  his  shoulder.  44 1  am  not  afraid, 
and  yet  the  house  is  desolate." 

For  some  time  he  stood  with  his  head  on 
his  breast,  then  he  raised  it  with  a  sudden 
air  of  decision.  44 1  will  go  to  see  the  king. 
He,  too,  will  be  sorrowing  on  account  of  the 
absence  of  his  friend." 

He  buttoned  round  him  a  warm  overcoat, 
put  out  the  light  in  his  room,  and  shut  in  it 
the  two  old  cats  who  had  been  mewing  dis- 
mally about  him  ever  since  their  suffering 
comrade  had  arrived.  Then,  carrying  the 
body  of  the  unlucky  Squirrel  in  his  arms,  he 
wended  his  way  to  the  park. 

King    Boozy    was  watching,  and   not   sleep- 


210  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

ing.  All  through  the  evening  he  had  been 
wandering  to  and  fro  under  the  trees,  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  absent  Squirrel  before 
he  could  go  to  sleep.  On  account  of  the 
darkness  and  rain  of  the  night  not  many  per- 
sons passed  through  the  park ;  and  of  those 
who  took  the  walk  under  the  poplars  not  one 
suspected  the  eager  scrutiny  of  the  pair  of 
eyes  belonging  to  the  little  animal  crouching 
beneath  the  leaves  —  not  one  but  Eugene. 
He  knew  that  the  cat  was  there,  and  whistled 
softly  to  him. 

The  king  was  at  his  side  in  an  instant, 
and  there  was  no  need  for  Eugene  to  tell  him 
what  had  happened.  He  knew  at  once,  and 
in  dumb  sorrow  trotted  beside  the  boy  to  his 
home  in  the  underbrush. 

"There  he  is,  Boozy,"  said  Eugene,  laying 
the  cat  carefully  on  the  ground,  and  spread- 
ing open  the  coat.  "  I  thought  it  better  for 
thee  to  know.  Thou  wilt  not  cry?  No,  that 
is  a  good,  sensible  cat." 

The  king  crept  close  to  his  dead  friend,  and 
examined  him  closely  and  affectionately,  paus- 


THAT   WOMAN.  211 

ing  every  few  minutes  to  look   up  at  Eugene 
as  if  to  say,  "  Will  he  not  revive  ?  " 

The  boy  bent  over  him  in  the  darkness. 
"  No,  Boozy,"  he  said,  "  thou  canst  not  bring 
him  back.  Poor  little  cat,  he  has  lived  his 
day,  and  dogs  or  cruel  boys  have  killed  him. 
And  now  I  must  return  to  the  house,  for  it  is 
chilly  here,  but  first  I  must  tell  thee  some- 
thing ; "  and  he  caught  the  creature  to  him  in 
a  tumult  of  affection.  "  Listen,  till  I  tell  thee 
that  I  have  been  away,  and  that  I  have  come 
back  a  new  boy.  I  do  not  know  what  has 
caused  the  change  in  me ;  but  my  heart  feels 
no  longer  hard  and  cold,  but  soft,  quite  soft, 
like  thy  fur.  I  do  not  believe  all  that  these 
grown  people  tell  me ;  but  I  believe  many 
things,  and  I  think  that  having  lived  longer 
they  may  know  a  little  more  than  I  do.  I 
must  be  patient  and  learn ;  and  that  woman, 
that  woman  —  I  love  her,  and  she  shall  be  my 
mother!  Ah,  Boozy,"  and  the  boy  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and  lifted  his  cap  reverently  from  his 
head,  "I  shall  be  a  son  to  her.  I  shall  stay 
in  this  new,  free  country  as  long  as  she  lives. 


212  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

She  says  that  I  must  not  hate  England,  and  I 
will  not  hate  it.  She  says  that  I  must  endure 
the  republic  in  France,  and  I  will  do  that. 
If  she  will  guide  me  I  will  follow  her,  now 
that  I  know  that  women  are  good  and  do  not 
deceive.  My  beloved  grandfather  did  not  un- 
derstand. He  did  not  know  the  sergeant's 
wife.  Au  revoir,  little  cat:  I  must  go  back  to 
the  house  lest  she  possibly  arrive  and  find  me 
absent.  Wilt  thou  come  with  me  ?  " 

No,  the  cat  did  not  wish  to  accompany  him. 
Upon  being  released  from  Eugene's  arms  he 
crept  to  the  coat,  and  the  last  glimpse  that 
the  boy  had  of  him  as  he  reluctantly  went 
away  was  of  the  king  sitting  in  dignified  sor- 
row beside  the  body  of  his  friend. 


THE  RETURN.  213 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    RETURN. 

ON  the  evening  that  Eugene  left  Boston, 
Mrs.  Hardy  had  received  a  telegram  announ- 
cing the  serious  illness  of  her  aunt ;  and  accom- 
panied by  her  husband  she  had  at  once  left 
her  home  to  go  and  see  her.  They  were  away 
a  day  and  two  nights,  and  early  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  next  day  they  returned  home. 

They  were  a  very  quiet  couple  as  they  drew 
near  the  cottage.  "  It  seems  as  if  we  had 
been  to  a  funeral,"  said  the  sergeant  lugubri- 
ously, "though  it  looks  now  as  if  your  aunt 
might  get  well.  I  wish  that  you  had  never 
seen  that  boy,  Bess.  We  have  got  to  miss  him 
tremendously  about  the  house." 

"  I  believe  you  feel  worse  about  his  going 
away  than  I  do,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy.  "  I  know, 
I  just  know,  Stephen,  that  he  will  come  back. 
He  isn't  fitted  for  that  narrow  French  life, 


214  THE  KING    OF  THE  PARK. 

and  you  know  he  has  been  brought  up  to  de- 
spise priests.  Now,  if  he  had  been  going  to  a 
city  like  this,  or  to  any  one  that  liked  him  "  — 

"  Oh !  he'll  get  used  to  it,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"and  boys  forget." 

"  Some  boys  do  —  Eugene  won't,"  said  Mrs. 
Hardy.  "  I  know  him  better  than  you  do, 
Stephen." 

While  they  were  talking,  their  cab  stopped 
in  front  of  their  own  door.  The  sergeant  got 
out  first,  and  taking  a  key  from  his  pocket  he 
inserted  it  in  the  lock.  After  he  had  swung 
open  the  door,  and  let  his  wife  pass  in,  he 
sauntered  around  the  garden,  carrying  on  a 
half-growling  soliloquy  with  himself.  He  was 
slightly  out  of  temper,  and  he  did  not  know 
what  he  wanted. 

The  clouds  of  the  night  had  all  blown  away, 
and  the  morning  was  bright  and  cheerful.  The 
frost  that  for  some  days  had  held  the  garden- 
beds  in  its  grasp  had  relaxed,  and  they  were 
now  soft  and  muddy. 

"  Hello,"  said  the  sergeant,  suddenly  paus- 
ing in  his  walk,  "some  young  rascal  has  been 


THE  RETUBN.  215 

tramping  over  this  marigold-bed  by  Eugene's 
window  —  just  about  the  size  of  his  foot  too. 
Why,  what's  that  ?  "  and  he  wrinkled  his  eye- 
brows as  his  eyes  fell  on  the  blood-stains  on  the 
sill.  "  There's  something  wrong  here.  I'll 
investigate.  If  I'm  not  a  bad  guesser  some 
one  has  been  getting  in  this  window.  I  told 
Bess  she  ought  not  to  leave  it  open;  but  she 
would  do  it,  and  she  didn't  expect  the  boy 
to  come  back  either.  Just  a  woman's  foolish- 
ness." 

He  strode  quietly  up  to  the  window,  and 
tried  to  look  in.  The  blind  was  down  so  he 
could  not  do  it ;  therefore  he  put  his  hands  on 
the  sash,  and  softly  raised  it. 

More  softly  than  he  had  raised  it  he  put  it 
down,  and  his  amazed  and  discontented  expres- 
sion vanished  instantaneously.  His  lips  formed 
themselves  into  an  exclamation  of  surprise ;  and 
uttering  a  long,  low  whistle,  he  nimbly  picked 
his  way* over  the  muddy  paths  back  to  the  front 
of  the  house. 

"  Hello,  Bess  dear,"  he  said,  saluting  her  with 
an  affectionate  tap  on  the  shoulder  as  she 


216  THE  KING    OF   THE  PARE. 

whisked  into  view  with  a  duster  in  her  hand, 
u  you're  the  prettiest  woman  I  ever  saw." 

"  Stephen,  are  you  crazy  ? "  she  said  rather 
pettishly ;  "  and  why  didn't  you  wipe  your  feet  ? 
You  are  tracking  up  my  clean  hall." 

"  You're  out  of  sorts,  Bess  ;  you  find  the 
house  lonely  without  the  boy." 

She  hung  her  head  without  speaking.  She 
had  started  out  with  the  intention  of  bearing 
her  loss  bravely  while  it  should  last,  and  she 
was  not  yet  willing  to  give  in. 

"  I'm  hungry,"  said  the  sergeant  unexpect- 
edly;  "can't  I  have  some  more  breakfast?" 

In  a  trice  her  white  head  was  held  up  again. 
"  Why,  Stephen,  you  had  your  breakfast  at  the 
railway  station." 

"  Well,  suppose  I  did  —  can't  I  have  some 
more  ?  " 

"  Oh !  certainly,  if  you  wish  it,"  she  returned, 
eying  him  in  a  kind  of  uneasy  surprise  ;  "but 
you  ate  so  much." 

"It's  pretty  hard  if  a  man  can't  have  all  he 
wants  to  eat  in  his  own  house,"  said  the  ser- 
geant, and  then  he  began  to  sing,  — 


THE   RETURN.  217 

"  I  can't  get  'em  up, 

I  can't  get  'em  up. 
I  can't  get  'em  up  in  the  morning. 

I  can't  get  'em  up, 

I  can't  get  'em  up, 
I  can't  get  'em  up  at  all." 

Mrs.  Hardy  stared  at  him.  She  did  not  in  the 
least  understand  this  sudden  jocularity  of  mood. 

The  sergeant,  nothing  daunted  by  her  expres- 
sion, allowed  his  spirits  to  rise  higher  and 
higher,  and  continued,  - 

"  The  captain's  worse  than  the  sergeant; 
The  sergeant's  worse  than  the  corp'ral; 
The  corp'ral's  worse  than  the  private; 
But  the  major's  the  worst  of   all." 

"  Stephen,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  tearfully,  "  I 
don't  think  it's  kind  of  you  to  sing  that." 

uWhy  not,  my  dear?  why  not?" 

"  Because  —  you  know  why." 

"  Because  I  used  to  sing  it  every  morning 
when  the  boy  was  here.  Well,  I  just  want 
to  remind  you  of  him,  to  keep  you  from  for- 
getting, as  it  were.  You  think  he  is  coming 
back,  don't  you?" 

"  Ye-e-s,"    and   she    reluctantly    uttered   the 


218  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

word ;  "  but,  O  Stephen !  I  don't  want  to 
wait." 

"  It  isn't  necessary.  You  sha'n't  wait,"  vocif- 
erated the  sergeant,  roaming  about  the  room. 

Mrs.  Hardy  was  just  about  to  lose  her  com- 
posure, and  throw  herself  miserably  into  a 
chair;  but  at  his  words  a  puzzled,  almost  fear- 
ful, expression  came  over  her  face,  and  in 
tremulous  haste  she  hurried  to  the  pantry, 
and  busied  herself  in  preparing  the  extra 
meal  that  he  had  demanded. 

"His  grandfather  died  in  a  lunatic  asylum," 
she  murmured,  as  her  shaking  hand  dropped 
tea  instead  of  coffee  into  the  coffee-pot.  "  Is 
it  possible  that  his  mind  is  getting  affected  ? 
He  sha'n't  be  worried  into  it,  anyway,"  she 
went  on,  bravely  dashing  aside  a  tear ;  and 
her  fingers  fairly  flew,  as  she  cut  slices  of 
cold  meat  and  buttered  some  rolls.  "  He 
shall  have  what  he  wants." 

In  a  very  few  minutes  the  sergeant  was 
bidden  to  seat  himself  before  his  second  break- 
fast. "  Now  call  the  boy,"  he  exclaimed,  "  as 
you  always  do  before  we  get  seated." 


THE  RETURN.  219 

u  My  dear  husband,  let  us  not  refer  to 
him,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy  very  slowly  and  sooth- 
ingly ;  "don't  you  know  he  is  not  here?" 

"Let's  go  through  the  form,  anyway,"  said 
the  sergeant,  smiting  the  table  until  the  dishes 
rattled.  "  Let's  go  through  with  it  for  the 
sake  of  old  times  and  the  times  that  are  to 
come  ;  "  and  leaping  up  he  took  her  hand  in 
his,  and  jogged  merrily  down  the  hall. 

"I'll  go  with  you,  Stephen,"  said  his  wife, 
with  quiet  yet  increasing  uneasiness ;  "  but 
don't  hurry,  there's  plenty  of  time." 

"  Yes,  there's  plenty  of  time,"  whispered 
her  husband,  and  to  her  further  anxiety  he 
became  mysterious  and  subdued ;  "  hush,  now, 
if  he  was  here  we  might  wake  him ; "  and  he 
tiptoed  cautiously  into  the  room. 

Mrs.  Hardy  kept  close  to  his  side,  her 
troubled  attention  riveted  on  him,  until  she 
stumbled  over  a  pair  of  muddy  boots. 

Then  she  lifted  up  her  eyes.  There  on  the 
back  of  a  chair  was  a  coat  with  brass  but- 
tons, and  there  in  the  white  bed  was  a  sleep- 
ing boy. 


220  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

With  a  cry  like  that  of  a  mother-bird  kept 
from  her  young  she  flew  to  the  bed,  and  the 
released  and  misunderstood  sergeant  now  left 
to  his  own  devices  capered  clumsily  about  the 
room. 

When  Eugene  waked  from  sleep,  and  saw 
the  white  head  and  eager  face  of  his  adopted 
mother  bending  over  him,  his  first  drowsy  ex- 
clamations were  in  French ;  then  he  broke 
into  English.  "  Mrs.  Hardy,"  he  cried,  "I 
was  dreaming  of  you ; "  and  he  raised  himself, 
and  threw  his  arms  around  her  neck. 

The  sergeant  heard  his  wife's  exclamation, 
"  My  treasure !  I  knew  you  would  come  back." 
And  he  also  heard  Eugene's  clear,  ringing 
sentence,  "  Mother  !  mother !  I  have  not  said 
it  before,  except  to  the  king  of  the  park,  but 
I  will  call  you  that  now  to  all  the  world !  " 
At  this  latter  assurance  the  sergeant's  ca- 
pering ceased,  and  he  walked  soberly  to  the 
window. 

"  Bother  these  women,  they  are  always  cry- 
ing," he  observed  with  what  he  meant  to  be 
an  infinity  of  pity  and  indulgence.  Then  he 


THE  RETURN.  221 

drew  his  handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  and 
gently  touched  up  the  corners  of  his  eyes.  A 
minute  later  he  was  just  about  to  turn  around, 
when  he  found  it  necessary  to  go  through  the 
same  operation  again.  For  a  number  of  times 
his  handkerchief  went  from  his  pocket  to  his 
eyes,  until  he  said  with  impatience,  "I  don't 
care  if  they  do  see  me ;  "  and  marched  to  the 
bed. 

"  Son,"  he  remarked,  "  I  am  glad  to  see 
you  back." 

Eugene  was  sitting  up  in  the  bed,  looking 
slimmer  than  ever  in  his  white  nightgown. 
"  Will  you  take  me  for  your  child  ?  "  he  asked 
wistfully.  "  If  you  will,  though  I  am  but  a 
Dauper,  I  shall  feel  like  a  prince." 

"  We'll  take  you,"  said  the  sergeant,  winking 
rapidly,  "  prince  or  pauper  or  whatever  you 
like  to  be." 

"  I  was  never  happy  until  I  came  to  you," 
said  Eugene ;  "  and  I  shall  never  be  happy 
away  from  you  —  I  feel  that." 

"  Boy,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  it  isn't  your  fault 
that  you  were  a  bit  cantankerous.  You  were 


222  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

brought  up  wrong.  I  wonder  the  Lord  lets 
some  people  have  children.  They  don't  know 
how  to  train  'em,  and  yet  it's  a  hard  thing  to 
do.  I  hear  a  lot  of  talk  nowadays  about  the 
perfectibility  of  human  nature,  but  I  don't  see 
much  of  it  in  my  profession.  Show  me  a  baby 
boy,  and  I  say  there's  a  bad  one.  Show  me  .a 
baby  girl,  and  I  say  there's  one  not  quite  so 
bad.  They've  got  to  be  drilled.  Before  I  got 
to  be  as  good  even  as  I  am  now,  my  old  father 
had  to  wallop  me,  and  my  mother  had  to  pray 
and  cry  over  me  without  ceasing.  We're  born 
bad  — that's  my  doctrine;  and  we're  put  here  to 
improve  our  natures,  so  that  we  may  be  fit  to 
live  in  another  world  by  and  by." 

"I  like  those  words,"  said  Eugene  thought- 
fully; "and  I  believe  them  now,  though  once 
I  would  not  have  thought  there  was  truth  in 
them." 

"  I  guess  they're  sound,"  said  the  sergeant ; 
44  and  though  we're  not  perfect,  wife  and  I, 
we'll  try  to  teach  you  a  few  good  things." 

"  Oh !  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you,"  said  Eu- 
gene, kissing  Mrs.  Hardy's  hands,  and  folding 


THE  RETURN.  223 

them  to  his  breast,  "  so  much.  It  seems  a  year 
since  I  left.  I  must  tell  you  of  New  York, 
and  how  the  poor  cur4  was  disturbed." 

"  Get  up  and  dress,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  and 
come  outside  and  talk  to  us.  There's  some 
breakfast  for  you  there.  I  looked  out  for 
that,"  and  putting  his  arm  around  his  wife's 
waist  he  drew  her  from  the  room. 

"I've  just  fifteen  minutes  before  I  go  to 
the  park,"  he  cried,  "I  hope  the  little  fellow 
will  hurry." 

"  He  will,"  said  Mrs.  Hardy.  "  Oh,  thank 
God  that  we  have  him  back  again ! " 

"There's  a  lot  of  comfort  in  children,"  said 
the  sergeant,  "if  you  take  them  the  right 
way ;  and  I  often  wonder  what  the  state  of 
mind  of  real  parents  is  like  when  a  body  can 
get  so  fond  of  children  that  don't  belong  to 
him.  Bess,  we'll  try  to  bring  that  bairn  up 
in  the  right  way,  and  when  we're  gone  we 
won't  feel  that  we've  left  no  one  behind  us 
in  the  world." 


224  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

It  is  yet  rather  early  in  the  day  to  predict 
Eugene's  future,  as  he  has  only  been  a  few 
months  with  the  Hardys. 

He  is  still  a  pale,  elegant  lad  with  courteous 
manners,  and  he  enjoys  to  the  full  the  country 
life  that  the  Hardys  are  now  living ;  for  the 
aunt  died  soon  after  his  return,  and  left  to  his 
adopted  parents  a  comfortable  house  situated 
some  miles  out  of  Boston. 

The  sergeant  has  resigned  from  the  police 
force,  and  the  city  cares  for  the  cats;  though 
every  week  the  sergeant  and  Eugene  ride  in, 
the  former  on  a  stately  chestnut  horse,  and  the 
latter  on  a  beautiful  pony,  to  pay  a  visit  to  the 
park,  where  they  are  eagerly  welcomed  by 
the  king  and  his  subjects. 

On  these  weekly  visits  Eugene  often  calls  on 
the  Mannings,  and  is  rapturously  welcomed  by 
Virgie;  but  whether  he  goes  there  or  not,  he 
never  fails  to  seek  the  spot  where  the  bust  of 
John  Boyle  O'Reilly  looks  toward  the  city. 
He  always  remains  before  it  for  a  long  time. 
His  childish  love  for  his  emperor  will  never  die 
away ;  but  it  is  broadening  now,  and  he  is  tak- 


THE  RETURN.  225 

ing  into  his  affections  the  heroes  of  his  adopted 
country. 

The  sergeant  invariably  takes  him  a  round 
of  the  public  buildings  and  monuments  of  the 
city.  Eugene's  face  flashes  as  he  follows  the 
sergeant's  lead,  and  reins  in  his  black  pony  near 
the  colossal  statue  of  Washington  on  his  horse, 
or  gazes  at  the  noble,  manly  Lincoln  standing 
over  the  freed  slave.  He  loves  also  the  Sol- 
diers' and  Sailors'  Monument  on  the  Common, 
where  his  favorite  figure  is  the  Federal  in- 
fantryman standing  at  ease. 

The  sergeant  likes  best  the  figure  of  peace  on 
this  monument,  —  the  woman  bearing  the  olive- 
branch,  and  having  her  eyes  toward  the  South. 

One  day  not  long  ago,  when  they  were  stand- 
ing before  this  monument,  Eugene  said,  "  I  may 
not  be  a  soldier  when  I  am  grown  up;  but  if 
this  country  should  need  me,  I  will  serve  it 
till  I  die." 

"  That's  right,"  observed  the  sergeant,  "  if 
you  are  a  good  honest  citizen,  respecting  your- 
self and  the  rights  of  others,  and  trying  to  keep 
a  clear  record,  you'll  be  doing  as  good  service 


226  THE  KING   OF  THE  PARK. 

in  the  world  as  if  you  were  running  about  with 
a  sword  or  a  gun  in  your  hand  to  pick  a 
quarrel." 

"But  suppose  one  just  had  to  fight,"  said  the 
boy  earnestly,  "  suppose  one  could  not  get  out 
of  it." 

"  Get  out  of  it,  get  out  of  it,"  said  the  ser- 
geant with  a  chuckle,  "  and  always  get  out  of 
it ;  but  if  you  can't,  and  just  have  to  fight, 
as  you  say,  then  fight  well." 


YC  50107 


